Neighbors

Baby Moose

OK, I’m back. It’s been a while since I wrote a post, more than six months. My Mom passed away and then life got really busy. I needed time to grieve. Something had to give, and with the internet connection challenges of my remote rural Alaska home, it was the blog. But I’m back now, and I wanted to mention a few of my neighbors, who I can always count on to bring a smile to my face.

I’m not talking about just my human neighbors, although they, too, can be counted on to bring a smile to my face. I’m not the only one who’s gotten busier lately. We seldom have time to visit anymore.

porcupine
Pesky porcupine

I see a lot more of my other neighbors, the wild ones. They visit often.  Some of them are practically roommates, like the porcupine who moved in under the house in the spring of 2020, when I was a little late getting back home to Alaska due to Covid. I had to evict that squatter. He was a bad roommate. He chewed up the hose connecting my propane tank to the house.

Pine Grosbeak
Songbirds bring joy to my life.

Some neighbors are always welcome. My favorites are the songbirds. Waking up to their songs brings joy to my life daily.

Spruce Grouse
Where do they go?

Another species that I see often in the fall is the spruce grouse. It’s a mystery. I don’t understand it. These birds don’t migrate. They live here year-round. Yet they’re everywhere in the fall, but you NEVER see them in the spring and summer. Where are they? It is a mystery.

Snowshoe Hare
Baby bunny

The snowshoe hares go through big population boom and busts, too. It’s about an 11-year cycle. Some years you are practically tripping on them, there are so many. Then the population crashes and you can go a whole summer and maybe see one.

Pine Marten
A very scruffy marten

Some neighbors can be obnoxious. I’m talking about tree rats, aka squirrels. They have no conception of private property and will trash your house and steal your insulation to use in their own home. Obnoxious. So I was really glad to see a new addition to my neighborhood this fall, a pine martin. He’ll clean out those pesky squirrels!

Young Bull Moose
Young Bull Moose

Another neighbor I’m usually happy to see is the moose. They’re good at teaching ME that lesson about private property. The lesson that there is no such thing. My land belongs to them, too.  I hate to have them visit when they are intent on eating the garden or chowing down on that going-to-be oh-so-photogenic patch of head-high fireweed blossoms that would perfectly set off my best view, the day before they would flower.

Black Bear Cubs
Cute, but stay outta my yard!

Then there’s the neighbor that Alaska is famous for, the one I am much happier NOT seeing in my yard. Ever. Bears. I could see either black bear or grizzlies in my neighborhood, although thank goodness not as often as I saw them when I was renting a house in the middle of a soapberry patch. But you have to always be aware, every single time you walk out the door, that they could be there, maybe just around the corner. I mean, I’m glad I live in a place where I can still run into a bear on Main Street, as I did this summer in Kennecott. But I hope they stay away from my house!

Red Salmon
New neighbors

I have another new neighbor in the ‘hood, down in McCarthy town, in Clear Creek, where I get my water. We are getting a few, though I wouldn’t call it a run yet, red salmon now coming up Clear Creek. We’ve had an October run of silver salmon for a long time, but the reds have only started showing up the last few years, in August.

Swan Family
Swan Family

It’s because of the dynamic landscape we live in, constantly changing and changing ever more quickly these days due to the glacial retreat caused by global climate change. The hydrological changes in the town of McCarthy are especially striking. Land that was forest when I first moved here is now wetland. The little pond at the toe of the glacier is now a big lake. These changes have made the area more attractive for some creatures, like beaver and salmon, but caused some big challenges for us, the human residents.

Dall's Sheep above Chitina
Dall’s Sheep above Chitina

There are other neighbors living a little farther away, but still in what I would consider the neighborhood. These friends I don’t see as often maybe but enjoy whenever I get the chance. There’s that family of swans in the Chokosna ponds area. It’s always nice to catch up with them, and see how many cygnets they’re raising this year.  I might see the occasional bald eagle, or rarer still, a glimpse of Dall’s Sheep in the Crystalline Hills or up above the town of Chitina. Maybe I’ll see a lynx along the McCarthy Road, or a weasel in Kennecott. I’m glad to live in a community with so many wonderful neighbors!

Bald Eagle
Bald Eagle on the McCarthy Road

Thanks to Anne of Slow Shutter Speed for this week’s Lens-Artist Photography Challenge, “Wildlife Close To Home”.

 

Good Lord Willin’ and the Creek Don’t Rise (The View From My Front Porch Part II))

Fireweed Mountain, Wrangell St. Elias National Park

McCarthy Creek is flooding. I may be stranded here at home for a while.

Earlier this spring I had the opposite problem. I couldn’t GET home. Early winter cold temperatures with no snow cover, coupled with a late spring, caused the ground to freeze hard & deep, leading to a humongous lake in the low spot on my road. It was so deep my neighbors called it Lake Michigan. Just to keep things interesting, there were seven new trees down on my foot trail, too.

McCarthy, AK
The lake in my road

Even after the ground finally thawed and the lake drained, it was solstice before I could finally drive my ATV home. I had to wait for the road to dry and firm up so I wouldn’t turn it into a permanent bog. At least I was able to get the trees cleared so I could hike in.

Last spring access was difficult, too. A freak windstorm after days and days of heavy rain the previous fall had downed whole GROVES of aspens. Friends helped me clear my road after the storm, but I never got around to even looking at the foot trail.

Blocked trail
One of the trees down on my trail

When I came in that spring, there was a lake in the road, although it was much smaller than this year’s and only lasted a couple of weeks. When I went to try my trail, the dozens of blown down trees were piled ten to fifteen feet high, stacked like pixie sticks. On top of all that, I had a sprained ankle from slipping on the ice. Ahh, breakup! ‘Shwacking through the woods to get home that spring was NOT fun!

I had another interesting challenge that spring. Like a lot of folks who live off the grid in Alaska, I have a “cold hole” for refrigeration. This is a mini-root cellar constructed of three fifty-five gallon drums with the ends cut out, stacked together and buried. Things stay real cold and it had worked well for years. But that spring, ground pressure from either ice or a rising water table started warping the barrels. You know that scene in Star Wars when Luke, Han, Princess Leia and the Wookie start to get crushed in the trash compactor? It was like that. My bottom cooler got completely wedged. Folks that I had come by and look at it to give me advice just looked down and shook their heads. It was such a ridiculous “only in the bush” kind of problem that it was actually rather humorous. But it was still a problem.

Stairway Icefall
My fireweed garden

There’s a reason they call living out here the do-it-the-hard-way club.

I don’t have a garden. I’m overwhelmed enough with my house project. I don’t have time for one yet, especially in a year like this one. But I do have a wild garden – a combination fireweed/rose garden/raspberry patch. I encourage certain plants that grow here naturally by spreading a few random seeds in the fall.

It was starting to look pretty good. Most years the fireweed is taller than I am, and the raspberries had really taken off.

Moose Calf
Baby Moose

Then the moose discovered my garden. It started about 2 years ago – I came home from work one day and all those five-foot high fireweed blossoms had disappeared. I was astounded.

Last year I caught her in the act, a mama with 2 babies. I watched her mow down my flowers and cringed as the whole family tore into the two tiny birch trees I had been so carefully nurturing, the only plants I had actually transplanted onto my land. What was I to do? I sure wasn’t going to mess around with a mama moose!

Cow moose
She likes raspberries!

Then I woke up this morning to a moose in my raspberry patch. No-o-o! Stick to the fireweed! I had to go stand on my porch and tell her she needed to share. She wasn’t so sure about that, but since I wouldn’t go away, she eventually ambled off to the other side of the house.

I think she might be one of last year’s calves. She looks young, possibly a yearling. I’m resigned to losing the fireweed, but the raspberries? No fair! I didn’t even know moose LIKED raspberries until today! As soon as she left, I went out to pick what was left before she came back.

So why do I put up with it? Why deal with all the hardship? Why not go somewhere with the basic comforts of life, like electricity and running water?

Young Snowshoe Hare
Baby bunny

Well, I like watching my neighbors the moose, even though I don’t want to share my raspberries with them. I like waking up to the birds singing and greeting the bunnies hopping around my front yard.

As a former Colorado girl, owning an aspen-filled ridge is truly living the dream. How did I ever get so lucky?

I like lying back on a mossy hill, surrounded by lovely lichens and low-bush cranberries. I like living in a land full of kind, courageous, happy, amazing people, that it is a privilege and a pleasure to call my friends and neighbors. I like looking out at one of the most sublime views on the planet. Living here, I feel like every day, as I gaze out at the view from my front porch, I hear the angels sing.

Is living here the do-it-the-hard-way club? Most certainly. Is it worth it? Absolutely!

Stairway Icefall
The View From My Front Porch