A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

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Wasilla

Wasilla is the place where I have lived for the past 29 years - sort of. The house in which my wife and I raised our family sits here, but I have made my rather odd career as a different sort of photojournalist by continually wandering off to other places to photograph people and gather information, which I have then put together in various publications that have served the Alaska Native Eskimo, Indian and Aleut communities.

Although I did not have a great of free time to devote to this rather strange community, named after a Tanaina Athabascan Indian chief who knew Wasilla in the way that I so impossibly long to, I have still documented it regularly over the past quarter-century plus. In the early days, my Wasilla photographs focused mostly upon my children and the events they participated in - baseball, football, figure skating, hockey, frog catching, fire cracker detonation, Fourth of July parade - that sort of thing. 

In 2002, I purchased my first digital camera and then, whenever I was home, I began to photograph Wasilla upon a daily basis, but not in a conventional way. These were grab shots - whatever caught my eye as I took my many long walks or drove through the town, shooting through the car window at people and scenes that appeared and disappeared before I could even focus and compose in the traditional photographic way.

Thus, the Wasilla portion of this blog will be devoted both to the images that I take as I wander about and those that I have taken in the past. Despite the odd, random, nature of the images, I believe they communicate something powerful about this town that I have never seen expressed anywhere else. 

Wasilla is a sprawling community that has been slapped down hodge-podge upon what was so recently wilderness of the most exquisite beauty. In its design, it is deliberately anti-zoned, anti-planned. In the building of Wasilla, the desire to make a buck has trumped aesthetics and all other considerations. This town, built in the midst of exquisite beauty, has largely become an unsightly, unattractive, mess of urban sprawl. Largely because of this, it often seems to me that Wasilla is a community with no sense of community, a town devoid of town soul.

Yet - Wasilla is my home and if I am lucky it will be until I grow old and die. Despite its horrific failings, it is still made of the stuff of any small city: people; moms and dads, grammas and grampas, teens, children, churches, bars, professionals, laborers, soldiers, missionaries, artists, athletes, geniuses, do-gooders, hoodlums, the wealthy, the homeless, the rational and logical, the slightly insane and the wholly insane - and, yes, as is now obvious to the whole world, politicians, too.

So perhaps, if one were to search hard enough, it might just be possible to find a sense of community here, and a town soul. So, using my skills as a photojournalist and a writer, I hope to do just that. If this place has a sense of community, I will find it. If there is a town soul to Wasilla, I will document it. I won't compete with the newspapers. Hell no! But as time and income allow, it will be fun to wander into the places where the folks described above gather, and then put what I find on this blog.

 

by 300...

Anywhere within a 300 mile radius of Wasilla. This encompasses perhaps the most wild, dramatic, gorgeous, beautiful section of land and sea to be found in any comparable space anywhere on Earth. I can never explore it all, but I will do the best that I can, and will here share what I find and experience with you.  

and then some...

Anywhere else in the world that I happen to get to, such as Point Lay, Alaska; Missoula, Montana; Serenki, Chukotka, Russia; or Bangalore, India. Perhaps even Lagos, Nigeria. I have both a desire and scheme to get me there. It is a long shot. We shall see if I succeed.

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Entries in moon (13)

Wednesday
Dec222010

Three studies of the young writer, Shoshauna; two studies of the aging photographer/author whose blog just won an award / two sisters

The recent great drama for the moon, of course, was the total eclipse that overtook it just as winter solstice began. Even after the drama, the moon would linger, in full, throughout the solstice.

As all who frequent this blog know, I am a person who must get out into the open air and do something every day - walk, ride my bike, cross-country ski (at least before I shattered my shoulder and I hope very soon again) but lately I haven't.

Until yesterday afternoon, I had not taken a single walk since I last strolled across the lagoon in Barrow almost two weeks ago. I just have not been able to make myself do it and I have been atrophying. Yesterday, I decided that I must break through this and so I went walking.

As I walked, I could not help but think that this winter solstice day marked one month from the morning that I received the news that Anil had been killed in a car crash.

And today, this day, when I sit here writing, marks one month since I got the news that Sandy had followed her husband.

One month, yet I feel ten years older than I did when I awoke November 21.

I have been resisting the idea of old age - it has been my theory that old age is concept that applies to other people, but not me - that no matter how many years I accumulate, I will remain a young man.

Right now, it doesn't feel that way anymore.

Still, I intend to fight it.

Late last night, I also learned that this little blog of mine had been voted in as the Best Photography Blog of 2010 in the Blogger's Choice Awards.* For this, I would like to thank all of you who have cast votes on my behalf. And thank you, smahoney, for nominating my work in the first place.

I feel great sorrow that I cannot share this news with Sandy. I will share the news with her, and I will feel that she knows, but I won't know this for certain.

Or maybe I will.

Even when you feel something in certainty, it is hard to know for certain.

After I learned that I had won this award, I went into the house and told Margie. She did something she does not often spontaneously do that much anymore. She spontaneously reached up, put her arms around my neck, lifted her face to mine and kissed me right on the lips.

"That's wonderful," she said. "I'm not surprised. Well, I am surprised. But I'm not surprised."

It was a nice moment.

This woman has gone through so much, sacrificed so much, including anything even resembling security as old age approaches, just so I could follow my dreams and be a photographer/writer in Alaska - wandering here, wandering there, never working for money but always for love, sometimes bringing in a sudden flush of money but most of the time accomplishing quite the opposite.

Thank you, Margie.

Even before my walk ended, I started the car with the remote from about 100 yards away. I then poked my head into the house and told Margie that I was headed to Metro Cafe. OK, she said.

So here I am, pulling up to the drive-through line at Metro Cafe.

As I saw the people inside, I remembered the words from Cheers that Ice Road Truck Driver and India's Most Dangerous Road driver Lisa Kelly employed to tell CNN why she likes to go to Metro Cafe.

"Sometimes you just want to go to where everybody knows your name."

I don't think that everybody who was inside Metro Cafe on this day knows my name. 

But Shoshauna does. Shoshauna knows my name. And she had a smile on her face as I approached.

When I got to the window, Shoshauna informed me that, once again, an anonymous person had bought my coffee and my cinnamon roll. I have an idea who this anonymous person might be - in fact, I think there might be more than one anonymous person.

Whether I am right or wrong, I appreciate it.

Study # 3: Shoshauna, the young writer, preparing my coffee.

I was still sipping that coffee when I drove across the Little Su. I had finished the cinnamon roll.

I turned around at Grotto Iona, A Place of Prayer, and headed back towards home.

Along the way, I saw this car.

 

And this from India - Two Sisters:

Actually, I do not know that they are sisters. They may have been cousins, aunt and niece, teacher and student, mentor and apprentice - or just friends.

I know nothing about them, other than what you can see in this picture. I took it in a flash of a moment through the window of a taxi, hired by Murthy and Vasanthi, to take Melanie and me touring about southern India with them - and with Buddy.

I cannot even tell you what village we were passing through. It was one of countless.

 

*Two other Alaska-related blogs won Blogger's Choice Awards: Palingates, for Best Political Blog and conservatives4palin for Worst Blog of All Time. Congratulations to the both of you.

 

View images as slide show

 

Tuesday
Dec212010

For Soundarya, her sister Sujitha and her brother Ganesh: the eclipse that could not be seen from India, as observed from Wasilla, Alaska

As it drew near to the time of the total eclipse of the moon that took place above us late last night and early this morning, I was wondering how I should deal with it on this blog, or if I should deal with it at all.

After all, millions of cameras all across North America and wherever else it could be viewed would be pointed at that eclipse and there would really be nothing that I could contribute to the mix. Among those cameras would be those of NASA, of other professional astronomers and of many amateur astronomers who would have just the right equipment to really tell the story.

As for me, I could not even find my tripod head. I would have to shoot hand-held, with a maximum telephoto of 400 mm - not that great for coming in close on the moon.

Then, as always, I thought of Sandy and I knew that if she still lived, I would go out and take some pictures of the eclipse, just because it would not be visible from India and I would want to share the experience with her as best I could.

I would tell her what it was like to go in and out of the house, never bothering to put on a jacket or hat or gloves or anything, because what did it matter if the temperature was -18 on her C scale. This was solstice, the time when the sun ceases its retreat to the south and turns once more to the north, to bring the light and warmth back to us.

It was right that there should be a bit of bite in the air, even if it wasn't all that cold, and that I should feel it without the protection of warm clothing. No danger - the house is right there, behind me, fire burning in the wood stove.

So that is what I would have done - I would have taken the pictures of the eclipse. I would have emailed them to her and I would have written about the experience.

I thought of her sister, Sujitha, and her brother Ganesh. They would not see the eclipse, either. Sure, they could find better pictures of it online than what I would take, but if I shot it, it would give them a direct connection.

So, Sandy, Suji and Gane:

This post is for you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The thought does strike me that perhaps Sandy had a better view of the eclipse than did all of us, even those at NASA. I don't know. Perhaps.

It is all a mystery to me.

 

View as slide show

Saturday
Jan302010

Obama stands as Grasshopper before House Republicans; Funny Face's gift certificate, elder Marine at Family, dog charges into path of oncoming cars; small view of beautiful evening

I am extremely frazzled at the moment, due to the fact that I have, once again, experienced technical difficulties with my Squarespace host tonight. Terrible technical difficulties. After preparing my photos, I first opened the program exactly one hour and 50 minutes ago and it has taken me that long just to get to this point - and I dread what might happen yet.

So I am exasperated. I just want to scream. I do not want to sit in this chair and battle Squarespace for another minute. But, I must get this blog post done. So I will proceed, although my wording might prove to be abrupt, reeking of frustration, all the way through.

Anyway - I did return to Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant for breakfast today and, just as she said she would, Cindy had returned the gift certificate that Funny Face and her Mister had so generously purchased for me three days before Christmas.

I am quite amazed that the wrong Bill had this gift certificate all this time and did not take advantage of it, but grateful, too.

So today, my omelette came courtesy of Funny Face - and there was enough left over for another one, plus a bit more.

So thank you, Funny Face - Sally thanks you too.

When I started blogging, I never, ever, expected or even imagined that anyone would do something like this for me. It is quite amazing.

As I sat there enjoying my omelette, this man came in wearing the jacket that told of his service in the US Marines. This set off a whole train of thought that I was going to write down here tonight, but given the frazzled state that these technical difficulties have left me in, I am just going to pass.

Suffice it to say that I wanted to know more about him, to learn his story, to find out when and where he served. In fact, I decided that after I finished my breakfast, I would introduce myself. But then when the time came, he appeared so content and thoughtful, absorbed in his own consciousness, that I could not bring myself to interrupt him.

Plus, I had many things waiting for me to do, although I never did do them all.

Still, someday, I would like to learn what I can of his story.

You will recognize this dog from yesterday. It came out again. I had more that I was going to say about it, but, AUUUGGGGH!

As Charlie Brown would say.

This black lab came with it, of course, dragging a stuffed turtle with no head. It was right about here that my iPhone rang. It was Margie, calling from Arizona to tell me that there had been an explosion at Sunrise, the ski resort owned by her White Mountain Apache Tribe, and that our nephew, Uriah, had been caught in it and had been air-medivaced out to Phoenix.

She did not yet know anymore that. I walked as we talked. This was the third time that I had met this black lab in the past week. Both times before, it turned around and went home right after greeting me.

This time it continued on with me and it brought the turtle.

"Go home, dog," I said as I walked and talked to Margie.

It did not go home.

Soon we came to Seldon Street. I could see a number of cars coming from both directions. Sometimes, you look at a dog and you immediately know that this dog does not understand that if it crosses a road in traffic that a car can hit, injure and kill it.

I could see right away that this was such a dog. And there it was, trotting happily in front of me, straight toward Seldon - toward the cars that were coming from both directions.

"Dog! Dog!" I shouted, with Margie on the other end, trying to tell me how things were down in Arizona in the face of this latest bad news. "Stop! Come back here!" The dog did not stop, but trotted happily right into the path of an oncoming car.

"DOG! DOG!" Fortunately, the driver managed to brake in time. Immediately after, a car coming from the other direction did the same. I took no pictures because I was talking on the phone and shouting at the dog.

The drivers both gave me dirty looks.

The dog made it across Seldon and kept going up Brockton. I had planned to go that direction, too, but I knew that dog was going to stick with me the entire walk. I did not want to be responsible for it. It was only a couple of hundred yards from its house, so I figured it could find its way back without me - if it didn't get hit by a car in the process.

I wondered if I should try to shepherd it back, but I knew that it was just as likely to get hit by a car if I was shepherding it as if I wasn't.

It had already proven that.

So I left it to its own few wits and turned left, down Seldon, and ditched it. I hope it survived. I suspect that it did, but I don't feel that optimistic about its future, unless something changes in its daily care. Not so long ago, there was another dog that lived 100 yards from where this one does now. Once, even as its people looked on, it came running to Jacob and I and a car had to stop so hard it left rubber in the road.

Not long after, that dog was struck and killed.

As I walked on, an airplane passed by.

A raven flew overhead.

These bare trees just looked pretty to me.

Royce seems to be doing much better.

I first found Obama's appearance before the Baltimore retreat of the House Republicans online at The Mudflats. It was 66 minutes long and I did not have 66 minutes to spare, but I watched it, anyway. It was beautiful. Remember the old TV show, Kung Fu, with David Carradine as Kwai Chang Caine, or Grasshopper?

Remember how Grasshopper would calmly and quietly face the raging, fuming bullies, who would sneer and laugh and then charge in multiple at him with their guns, knives, axes, fists, whatever? Remember how, with his superior knowledge, skill and basic sense of humanity, Grasshopper would deflect or dodge every blow and weapon they threw at him and would turn their own rage and force backwards upon them until they fell before him?

And even then Grasshopper would be graceful, and would give them another chance - should they be willing to take it? Some did.

That was President Barack Obama, standing in front of the House Republicans.

As to the website taking up the other half of my screen, that is Burn Magazine, founded by master photojournalist David Alan Harvey of Magnum, both to encourage "emerging photographers" and to create a new venue for serious photography. Burn is a good place. I highly recommend it to anyone who loves photography that might not be commercial.

And, honest to God, I already had Burn onscreen when I found the Obama/House Republican get-together. I did not stage this very appropriate juxtaposition of web pages - this is just another one of those coincidences that I told you about yesterday.

On my coffee break, I saw this dog. I also heard from Margie again. Uriah has second degree burns on his face, along with several cuts, but no critical, life-threatening, injuries. Margie did not know how much of his face had been burned.

I continued on and the moon came up.

Pioneer Peak at dusk. I had to go down to 1/8 of a second to get this one. There was no traffic behind me, so I stopped in the road and held the pocket camera out the window. As soon as I saw a headlight in my rearview mirror, I took off again.

I did the same thing here. This is the best thing about living in Wasilla. Sometimes, you can get frustrated and forget, but then you are reminded - Alaska is always out there, surrounding you, embracing you, providing nurture to your soul.

 

I am a little frustrated by all this, though. I am satisfied with the size that vertical images appear in this blog, but sometimes I want the horizontals to be bigger, including these final three images.

Squarespace has a feature that allows a blogger to link a larger image to the small, column-width ones that you see here.  It is a process that is tedious in its operation - compared to accomplishing the same thing in say, Blogger, where it takes less than 20 percent as long (yes, I have timed it). I have pointed this, and their other many shortcomings, out to Squarespace many times and have suggested that they improve them to perform at least as well as do the same features in Blogger, which is free, whereas you must purchase Squarespace, but, damnit, after a-year-and-a-half, I am convinced that they are simply never going to.

Still, I regularly go through this aggravating process so that anyone who wants to can click on an image and bring up a larger version.

That feature is not working properly in Squarespace tonight, so the larger image is not available.  Even if you would like to look at a larger version of the final three pictures above, you can't.

Curiously, though, it worked with the omelette and the raven, but with no other image. And yes, I cleared cached, refreshed pages, closed and reopened my browser - several times - and shut down and restarted my computer. It didn't help.

Can you feel my exasperation with Squarespace? Can you? Can you feel it? I have never, ever, experienced anything else like Squarespace in the digital/computer world. In the beginning, when I first came upon these problems, I thought the situation would improve as I better learned the program and as Squarespace upgraded and improved it. I was wrong. Yet, I am so far into it, so many links lead to my Squarespace work and I have moved so far up in Google... what do I do? 

Squarespace has wasted so much of my time! They claim to want suggestions and they swear they consider all of them, but they never act on them. No, not on a single one do they act!

The support staff is, almost to an individual, courteous and they do their best to help, but at its root Squarespace is fundamentally flawed and their developers seem content to leave it this way.

Can you feel my exasperation?

I have ranted - but - if you only knew what I have been through with Squarespace!

Thos, if you read this, I am about ready to use some frequent flier miles and get you on a plane to Alaska! If you can solve some of these problems for me, it would be well worth it.

Friday
Jan292010

Couch warfare; someone gave me a gift certificate to Family, but it went to another; dogs - both nice and mean; Through-the-Window Metro study

The day began with promise. I saw a human being right away - Caleb, deeply engrossed in his video war games. When I looked at the screen, he was blasting away at an enemy (the avatar of an actual person somewhere else) who was scampering down the street in great panic as he tried to avoid Caleb's bullets.

It sure looked to me like Caleb was hitting him, but he dived into an open doorway, apparently unscathed. Immediately after that, Caleb was firing at someone else when another fighter popped out from the side and almost ran into Caleb's fire. Caleb stopped shooting for just one moment, or he might have hit that guy.

"Wow," I said, "that guy almost ran right into your fire."

"That was one of my teammates," Caleb said.

"So if you had hit him it would have been a case of friendly fire."

"No," he said. "Nothing would have happened. This is set up so you can't kill your teammates."

Just then, some kind of rocket came down on Caleb's avatar and killed it.

"I hope I didn't cause that by distracting you," I apologized.

"Oh, no, you didn't cause it," he said. "Those rockets just get you. You can't avoid them. It happens all the time."

And then you just become someone else, or the old you pops back to life and you keep fighting.

Yesterday, after coming in contact with a total of three people all day, all at once, for just as long as it took to buy an Americano, I promised to go to Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant today. I did, and as I parked my car, I saw Sally walking towards her's.

So I shouted out to her. She gave me a hug, and then we talked for just a little bit. She asked me if I had received my certificate to get a free breakfast at Family Restaurant.

I was puzzled by this, as I knew nothing about any certificate.

It turns out that after I included her and a bit of her story about her battle with alcohol and drug abuse in a past post, one of my blog readers purchased gift certificates at Family for both Sally and me.

"Really?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yes," she said. "I got mine and I've used it already. Ask Connie, she knows about it."

So we said goodbye and I went in to get my breakfast, wondering if it had already been paid for. 

I ordered ham and eggs, over easy, plus hash browns and multi-grain toast, which I asked to be delayed until I had eaten everything else.

And here is my waitress, bringing my toast, after I had eaten everything else. But I forgot to speak her name into my iPhone dictation ap, and I have forgotten it.

After I spread strawberry jam upon my toast and ate it, I went to the check-out register and asked about the gift certificate. The lady behind the counter knew nothing about it, so she called out to Connie. Connie got a horrified look on her face and said that she had given the gift certificate to someone else.

This lady, Cindy, was standing in line behind me. "It was my husband that she gave it to," she said. She told me his name was Bill, too. She said there had been an argument at the time as to whether or not the gift certificate was supposed to go to her husband, but in the end he had taken it.

"I've got it in the car," she said. "I'll give it to you."

So I followed her to her car, where she did some rummaging, but she could not find it. She said it must be at home. She said she would find it and bring it tomorrow.

"I've just been wondering who Funny Face is," she said. That could be kind of puzzling for a wife, for her husband to get a mysterious gift certificate from someone she does not know by the name of Funny Face.

"Funny Face is one of my blog readers," I told her. "From Texas."

"Oh," she said.

Thank you, Funny Face.

I did speak Cindy's name into my iPhone, but, just as in every other case where I have done so, I remembered the name even without going back to the iPhone.

What are the odds that Cindy would have been standing in line right behind me when I asked about that gift certificate?

This is just another one of those hugely unlikely coincidences that happen to me all the time.

A bit later, when I took my walk, this dog that I first met Tuesday appeared again and came to greet me. It seemed to come from the same house where a dog named Angel lives. Angel is one of the nastiest dogs that I have ever met. Angel has bitten me. I think Angel is the Devil's angel.

The German Shepherd followed. I was a little leery, but it proved not to be vicious. It's still a bit of a pup, though, so its got time.

Maybe tomorrow, I will dig up my pictures of Angel and include them in my post - if there's room. Then you will see how mean she is. You will think that I had nerves of steel just to take such pictures.

The German Shepherd, in profile, tail down submissively. Maybe the future will be okay with this dog.

She told me the dog's name. I knew I would not forget it, so I did not speak it into my iPhone. I have forgotten it.

At the usual time, I headed to Metro Cafe. Carmen was feeling happy. The day was warm for Wasilla in late January and business had been good.

Through the Metro Window Study, #532.

I take so many pictures through the window of people on the other side of Carmen's counter that I just decided I've got a genuine study going.

I don't really know the number of this particular study, but #532 sounds pretty impressive, so I settled on it.

Carmen's husband, Scott, was taking down Christmas lights. He said these lights had been a disaster. The wind had pounded them against the windows, badly chipping the glass.

"I want it to be Spring," Scott said. "The older I get, the colder I get."

Despite the warmth of the day, right near freezing, the wind was brisk, so that must account for the fact that Scott, who works at Prudhoe Bay, was cold.

The moon was very near full.

 

Baby-in-waiting update: Still not here yet. Lavina is resting and is more comfortable now. Margie comes home in just over three days. I am a little more hopeful now that baby will wait for her/his grandma than I was last night.

Wednesday
Jan272010

iPhone fun; a dearth of human contact; I hang out with cats and communicate with a fish

Yes, Michelle, I did get my iPhone* - just before I left for Barrow. It is such a long and absurd story and I have had so many things going on that I could not bring myself to tell it.

In fact, I cannot bring myself to tell it now, either. Basically, though, you will recall that I took the gift cards that Jacob and Lavina had given me for Christmas into the local At&t store where I was informed that they would cover the cost of an 8 gig phone, but I could get a 16 gig for $100 more. I did not want to pay $100, so I purchased the eight gig phone and the entire transition took about five minutes. 

When it was done, the salesman gave one of my gift cards back and told me that it still had $48 in it. That meant that I would actually have had to pony up only $52 for the 16 gig phone. That wasn't so bad, so I decided to go for it. The salesman said "okay," then attempted to complete the transaction.

About an hour later, he determined that, for some reason incomprehensible to me, he could not just transfer the funds that I had already paid straight over to the 16 gig phone. Instead, the funds had to be put back into the card, but they could not be put in for 24 hours.

"So come back in 24 hours," he said.

So I came back 24 hours later and a lady set about to complete the transaction. She took my extra $52, which actually came out to $53, and had me sign everything that needed to be signed. In the end, she could not complete the transaction, either. "The money is still not in the cards," she told me. "It will take ten days for the money to be put back into the cards. Come back in ten days."

Oh, boy... I just can't go on with this story. Let it be enough to say that each day for the next eight, a lady from At&t by the name of Elaine would call and we would talk - the first time for a good hour. Elaine would promise to get the situation taken care of so that I could pick up my phone within the day.

After a few days, she expressed great puzzlement as to why the money was going back into the cards at all, as the policy was to refund cash directly back to the customer, in which case, she said, I should have been able to get my iPhone that very first day.

Finally, three or four days after that, eight days after I made the original purchase, she figured out some way to bypass whatever convoluted thing had happened and to have the saleslady take the cards from me, cut them up and have me the pay the $53 all over again - then I could leave with my phone.

So eight days was better than ten.

I love the iPhone. It is so many things besides a phone. For example, if I photograph someone and then ask their name so that I can identify them in this blog, all I have to do is turn on iPhone dictation, speak that name and when I need it, there it is. So now I have no excuse ever to forget a name again.

But here is the curious thing: I have already used the dictation feature with a few names, but when it came time to do the blog I remembered the names even without opening the iPhone. However, there have been other names that I did not put into dictation, thinking that I would remember them, but when the time came, I had forgotten.

And of course I can now take pictures with my iPhone. The quality is terrible, but its still kind of fun and then I can send the picture to someone else.

Like this picture of Royce, for example. Melanie has been very worried about Royce and has spent much money on his care and diet, and now I can send his picture from my iPhone to her's and type, "well, he's taking his medicine, eating his soft food, and he's doing okay. The fish are doing pretty good, too."

Speaking of which, with Margie gone and me back from Barrow, I have almost no human interaction but tend to socialize only with cats and fish. I did see Caleb very briefly this morning. I woke up debating whether to cook oatmeal or go back to Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant. 

I was leaning towards oatmeal, with berries cooked into it, but then I heard the sounds of him playing war video games with his friends from around Alaska and the world. I heard the gunfire and the explosions, and the excited tone of his voice as he communicated with his team members as they battled the enemy.

I did not want to eat oatmeal in the middle of a battle, nor did I want to interrupt Caleb's game. My head felt groggy. I did not know if I could deal with cooking oatmeal and brewing coffee. I did not want to add more dishes to the pile. I knew that if I went to Family, I wouldn't have to.

I punched the auto-start to the car. Even before I left my bed, the car began to warm up.

"Hi Dad," Caleb when finally I stepped out, even as he blasted away at a enemy who dodged and blasted back at him.

"Hi Caleb," I said. Then I went to Family. There, I spoke briefly with my waitress, and with the lady behind the counter who took my money. As she was getting my change, I saw these folks admiring this baby, so I pulled my pocket camera out of my pocket and shot this scene and that was the total of my human interaction there.

"How was breakfast," Caleb, still fighting, asked as I reentered the house.

"It was good," I said.

I checked my email, then took off on my walk. I saw but one person, and he was atop a hill, about half-a-mile away from me. I did not see a moose. I did not even see a dog. I did see this raven, flying overhead. He had nothing to say to me.

Sometimes, ravens have lots to say, but not today - not this one.

And I saw this military jet.

And this airplane, which looks a lot like my crashed Running Dog. But I encountered no people.

By the time I reached home, Caleb had gone to bed. I came right out here to my office, sat down at this very computer and struggled to work. I don't know why I struggled, but I did. There was nothing unusally hard about the work, but sometimes, even when its easy, I struggle. I can barely do it. I find it almost impossible to put down a single word. It can take me hours to write two paragraphs.

And so it was today.

Finally, it was 4:00 PM, coffee break time, time to get back intp the car, grab an Americano and listen to the news. I had to drop off a bill, too. Along the way, I saw this kid. I said nothing to him. He was completely unaware of me and I'm pretty sure that's how he wanted it to be.

"Look!" said when I pulled up to Metro Cafe. "It's light! It's not dark. It's here, Bill. It's here." By "it" she meant light of course.

"Yep," I said, "it sure is."

"I've had a really good day today. It's been busy."

"That's good," I said. I want Metro Cafe to stay busy, because busy means staying in business.

"It's because we have lunch sandwiches now, and soup," she said. "People are coming for lunch."

"I will have to try your lunch, sometime," I said.

"Yes, you must," Carmen agreed.

And that would be the closest that I would come to having a conversation today.

When I saw this little girl exit her school bus, I thought that it really is a good thing that the light is back.

The road was slippery, though. One can never take an icy road for granted.

The moon is growing. I rolled down the window and shot a few frames as I drove down Church toward home. Except for the occasional glance, I did not look at it as I drove, but I knew where it was. I knew where to point the camera.

Wasilla moon.

Then I came back here to my office and here I have been ever since, not counting the half-hour that I spent inside the house, reheating some black bean soup that I made yesterday and then eating it, with applesauce for dessert. Just before 10:00 PM, I heard the sound of Caleb's footsteps as he walked from his room through the house and to the front door.

I heard the door open. I heard the door close. Caleb was gone.

At about 11:30 PM, I looked over at the parrot fish and saw him looking back at me, obviously wondering what I was up to. I have had him for eight years and for all but the first few months of that time, he had lived in the 55 gallon tank that I gave to Kalib just before I left for Barrow. I gave Kalib all the other fish that were in that tank, plus the giant plecostomus that had lived alone in the 90 gallon tank ever since the two big oscars died.

I am very fond of the parrot fish, and he likes me. He is smart, too. Very smart. He is the smartest fish that I have ever known. Some people think oscars are smart and they are, but they're not as smart as this guy. I could not bear to give him away, so I put him in the 90 gallon tank, which sits three feet to my right and kept him here with me.

Yesterday, I bought a little cichlid to go with him. It was yellow in the store, but it has been blue here. I also bought a little plecostomus, to be a house keeper.

"Hi, fish!" I waved.

The parrot waved back with the fin on his right side. "Hi, Bill!" he shouted.

I told you he is smart!

Who needs human interaction, when he has a fish such as this?

 

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