Admiralty Island Dreams

The Cessna 207 comes through a pass, then banks to the left; through the window I see a steep, timbered mountain framed by the Grey bleak sky. The points of shale cliffs at its base lie submerged by the high tide, leaving only edges above the water. Beyond, along the entrance to the Cove, fingers of land spread out and provide shelter in the deep coves, and nearby, in mid-channel, are small islands and reefs--wet regions of seaweed and crashing waves. And lost in the mist of distant dreams, are the shapes of the hills and mountains of the Glass Peninsula that enclose the far opening to Swan Cove. The range is like a wall that stretches thirty miles south to the open sea. I will soon land here on the tossing waves and be dropped off by the plane. For the next three weeks, living in an old cabin, my life will be a solitude of natural sound and sights. The journey has already begun...