The humming tone in my ears disappears. You know, that “white noise” from olfactory bombardment of electronic devices and big city traffic. In our remote cabin, the music of wind, waterfalls and birdcalls replaces that buzz between my ears.
I sleep to sounds of rain, wind or silence and after one month of living remote, my senses tune in to visual movement in the bush. I love the bush…all bush. (The bikini wax is way over-rated). Hey, being in the bush bring us back to our natural state, in my humble opinion.
Mare, Jack and I must leave before fall changes to winter. Fall kills leaves. Hunters kill a few bull moose, and masses of salmon find their way home to” have sex and die.” (Could that be a bumper sticker?) I would like to stay for the final salmon run, the 12 to 22 pound Coho who come to spawn, but snow in the Northern Rockies could strand us on our drive if we wait too long.
Bear cubs and moose calves prepare for the changing season. Each November, 3500 Bald Eagles converge in Haines to “conference.” Some stay for the winter…but no, not I.
We appreciate the close friends we have made in Haines. Mostly, though, I will miss the fishing…and having coffee on the deck in the morning while watching the surf scoters, those water birds that float daily in the Chilkat Inlet and dive under in sequence.
Mare will miss the bears and flowers and even the thousands of visitors who flock to our deck.
Jack will miss chasing chipmunks, but not as much as diving for rocks and retrieving sticks from the waters.
After sleeping on the floor for four months, with a wet or drying dog, we develop a newfound agility – simply from getting up from bed in the morning, or several times during the night to go outside and pee.
Looking forward to motel luxury along the drive back, the irony of insomnia intrigues us. That white noise of electronics and motors returns. A mattress a few feet above the ground makes us toss and turn. We must adjust, perhaps back to our natural state.
Goodbye Haines. Thank you abundant universe!