Uncontrollable Controller Love

I love the calm days, seldom showing themselves, that turn mudflats into mirrors and life seems to explode with even more beauty.

I love the Lupines that loop around sand dunes where Savannah Sparrows sing and Willows wedge through swaths of Sweet Gale to establish a spot in botanical history.

I love prints that know nothing of time, for they will soon be erased when the moon melts salty seas over clam shell-peppered mud.

I love seeing the gap between Kayak and Wingham very slowly ebb and flow with each footstep towards success.

I love hearing the Gulf of Alaska growl as it thrusts energy onto the driftwood-littered beaches of Kanak, leaving memories on a beach that borders a place they say has none. 

I love seeing snow, of the Goose variety, sail across peaks and tornado down to tidal flats where they landed last spring. 

I love the miles of mountains that are absorbed by a layer of clouds, hiding a world of anything above 1,000 feet. 

I love the waterfowl that find themselves on the opposite side of shorebird flocks, as if to show me what I have only started to find. 

I love how, except for the inReach that hangs at the top of my tent, I can leave the outside world behind--connected only to the people also tied up in Red and to those who've got me where I'm going. 

And I love you, Red Knot, for you, like the imprint left by my tent as I depart, have imprinted people, places, and photographs unknown on the rest of my life.