by Krista Ruesch Shirtless on my tippy toes, six years old, I stood in profile and stared at the long scar extending from my armpit, reaching around the side of my chest and spreading out across my back. I faced the mirror and the smooth, flat scar stretching down the center of my chest, from the collar bone to the bottom of my rib cage. I turned back and gazed at that mystery scar on the side of my chest and started to feel scared and upset. I started calling my mom, who rushed in the bathroom, sensing the panic and urgency in my small voice. I pointed at the…
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The Cool of an Evening
by Édouard Ruess Under an evening sky, the faded clouds induce my eyes to open wider, filling themselves with an ocean of luminous flickering. To be alone–to be cool in the night–to be lifted into the sky, through the mind’s eye. Astronauts. Cooler than the stale, crisp air, gliding along the thermal protection system of their shuttle. How cool is an astronaut? How many children have sat at their bay window, peering through the fingerprinted glass, intrigued by the endless field of flickering-flies, wondering what type of flowers would grow on Pluto, if Pluto were to sprout flowers. Questions, they assume, only an astronaut could answer. But, what of the…
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Hooked on Healing
by Matthew Vos For our veterans returning from service to their country, the public lands managed by the Bureau of Land Management can provide not only a wide variety of recreational activities, but also an opportunity to enhance physical and emotional well-being while connecting with the lands and waters they fought to protect. For many veterans, BLM lands and waters have a truly healing effect. In, 2013, for the third consecutive summer, I was able to join BLM-Alaska in helping several war burdened individuals experience rehabilitation through fly-fishing in one of Alaska’s most beautiful settings… Around four years ago, Tim Sundlov, BLM-Alaska fisheries biologist and fly-fishing enthusiast who…
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Let Go and Relax
by Amanda Montavon It’s estimated that 40-80% of all doctor visits may be directly related to stress. When under stress we under go a physiological change referred to as the fight-or-flight response. The fight-or-flight response was first described by Dr. Walter B. Cannon at the Harvard Medical School in the 1920s and it works as our survival mechanism. Stress induces a surge of stress hormones preparing us to either fight or flee. Our hearts pounds faster as our blood flow is redistributed from the digestive tract to our muscles, and we enter a state of high alert ready to take action. In a life threatening situation this is a very…
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Winter Trails
by Alexa Dobson When the snow falls heavily, my sleek, black husky mix prances like a horse. Bouncing down the trail as I slowly follow, he pauses here and there to bury his face in the snow as though he might never experience winter again. He pauses, starts digging – what has he found? He’s earnestly nosing and pawing at the ground, in the same way a child plays with blocks. Deep in his internal programming, something is telling him to dig, inspect, satisfy the drive of curiosity. Triumphantly, he draws a small brown shape from the snow, limp, with a small pink tail. My dog the…
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Cold Shoulder
by Shelby Faulconer The chills straighten the spines of exposed trees. Naked branches warm with a layer of ice, granted thus by humidity’s last attempt to leave water droplets on grass blades, already a feet under snow. And yet, the tree understands, standing encased by moisture, turn quick by temperature to frost-plated statues, erected by silent melodies of winter. A visible sigh, and one full appreciative apprehension to this spectacle of life. [divider] Marine biology and mathematics. You could say I grew up…
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A Poem for Burnt Popcorn in November
by Rosanne Pagano Tell me that some axis has shifted and the whole world is veering and then whisper, “It’s normal for November.” Go ahead, make it up, fib, lie, cross your heart and hope to die (but not in November; the cold earth is hard to dig.) Tell me November can’t last. Pretend somewhere it is spring and sunlight and my mother is working her crossword on the porch before lunch. Let’s forget for now that life is as predictable as applesauce on a cancer ward. Instead you pack the picnic hamper, I’ll take the oars. Let there be a wide sky, a big river, a broad silence. Just…
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Taku Wind
by Sarah Page Rays creep down the valley Through heavy, pressing clouds Onto the dark Gastineau Channel. Here, the world moves so fast Yet time has slowed. The clouds, so fleeting The waves, so slight Fill me with every gust As if it is known The body is but a thick mesh film Allowing separation, not distinction, From the natural world. The slightest crescent moon peers down As the eagles, gulls, and ravens glide. I too feel the breeze beneath my wings. [divider] Anchorage raised Sarah Page graduated from APU in December ’13 with a Liberal Studies degree. You can usually find her singing, reading, playing outside, or traveling the…
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Grand Canyon: The Living Landscape
by Killian Sump This short film attempts to protray the wonder of the Grand Canyon’s landscape through timelapse and river footage. It was filmed during a three month stint in and around the Grand Canyon region, including a packrafting trip through the whole river stretch. Narrative from Larry Stevens, from his Grand Canyon River Guidebook. Music is “Self Portrait” by Lenon. This video is also here to get folks curious about The Canyon for the full version of Grand Water in April 2014, a larger piece mainly about the Colorado River through Grand Canyon and the impacts and future of Glen Canyon Dam, with timelapses, music, and interviews. Stay tuned at killiansump.blogspot.com , if you…
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Shake Your Groove Thing
by Simon Frez-Albrecht Slogging up the south couloir on the north face of Ptarmigan Peak, my thoughts drifted to the raspberries and dipping chocolate I had waiting for me at home. I imagined I would improvise a double boiler from a pair of pots to avoid burning the chocolate; I would get some wax paper from my roommate to lay on the cookie sheet; I would then use a pair of chopsticks to dip the berries, so that they would come out smooth and pretty instead of all globbed from my fingers or a spoon. I could practically taste the sweet fruit center, cold inside the still-warm chocolate, the small…
