Kicking back at Paxson Lake

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Please bear with me with these catchup posts! I'm making progress!
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Paxson Lake turned out to be a welcome respite from near constant travel. My time there was the closest thing yet on this trip to what I thought (or hoped) this trip would be like, even with the rain and mosquitoes!

Different type of fireweed at Paxson Lake (note the silver leaves and red veins in the petals)

Paxson Lake: almost heaven

After arriving and choosing a campsite, I took it easy. Set the tarp up to keep off the rain. Cooked a good dinner. Went for a walk down to the lake during a break in the rain. Hunted for berries. Slapped mosquitoes. Gathered interesting rocks. Read some. Slept late.

Blueberries and rocks

And, since it was raining so much, I had time to do another drawing!

There were so many interesting rocks, that I really wanted to try getting their colors and textures down on paper.

I felt it turned out well, but I'm still learning. The paper in my cheapo sketch book is a little too rough for fine pencil work; I cannot get a crisp edge line (like the edges of the berries or leaves), even with the Verithin pencils. But it is great for the rough texture of the rocks, taking little work to make those rocks look real.

It was an entertaining project, and I was pleased that I actually FINISHED something! I really can't wait to try another one!

I was having such a lovely time, and I really didn't want to put the tarp away wet, so I decided to stay another night.

While I was cooking dinner, there was a parade of neighbors walking by. Some had dogs (all on leashes!), some had children (not on leashes). One group, a family all oddly dressed alike in black caps, black jackets, and black pants, stopped near my site, and the dad pointed up to a tree just behind my campsite. "Do you see the eagle?" he asked his son.

Eaglet in the Paxson Lake nest

Huh? What had I been missing?

Eagle's nest

Sure enough, there was an eagle's nest near my campsite. I probably could have thrown a rock and hit it, but I hadn't noticed it at all.

I guess I just didn't look up!

There was only one "baby" eaglet in it, but that eaglet provided me with a lot of entertainment for the next 18 hours, until I left the camp.

It didn't really DO very much. It preened, looked around, and went back to sleep. Once, it yawned, which was pretty adorable. Sometimes it picked up sticks from the nest and placed them elsewhere. Occasionally, it would stretch its wings and jump up and down on the edge of the nest. It really looked like it was getting ready to fly!

Stretching those baby eaglet wings!

The parents mostly were not there. They flew in a few times, and their arrival was always foretold by the baby mewling for them. (Remember what I said in the last post about letting animals tell you when something is happening?)

Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of either of the parents arriving or leaving, but I can say they were bald eagles, not golden eagles. The second bald eagle in as many days! I guess I really AM in Alaska!

I was pretty thrilled to be seeing this. Another highlight of this trip!

Exploring

When it wasn't raining, I took meandering walks around the campground, which is pretty large, with two big loops with about 30 campsites on each loop.

Bee on "regular" fireweed: can you see the differences?

There are a number of VERY nice walk-in sites that had views of the lake, and aren't quite so swampy as the one I was staying in. I wasn't about to move, but it's something to consider for another time there. Those sites were a bit more open, which can be a mixed blessing — more sun (which was non-existent), no tree cover (so nothing to tie the tarp to), but with views.

Given the conditions, I decided to stay put!

I met a nice fellow (three daughters) and his German shepherd, "Max," from Fairbanks. He and Max were doing some fishing, the kids were in the RV. He said I had to come up in the winter to watch the aurora. He said I might be able to catch it in late August, depending on weather and sun-storms. [Update: I'm looking, but still waiting; Renee and Cho, who I met in Fairbanks, did see them one night at 3am. Cho, the hostel proprietor, woke her up to see them.]

Arctic tern

I saw and heard more birds: there were sandpipers (probably lesser yellowlegs) down by the lakeshore, arctic terns in the tops of the spruce trees, ravens cawing overhead, Oregon juncoes flitting in the brush, and sparrows trilling in the willows.

I ate blueberries, cloudberries (hard to find), and one late raspberry.

Other berries aren't ripe yet, but are getting turning color and growing large and fat at an almost frightening rate: crowberries, low- and high-bush cranberries, and bunchberries.

Unfortunately, the mosquitoes were also growing large and fat after biting me, but still, I've seen worse in the Sierra.

I've heard that the mew gulls like to eat mosquitoes, so I'm sure they are doing very, very well, too!

Cloudberry: about as big as my thumbnail (3/8" diameter)

Lost opportunity

I noticed a cinquefoil flower (bright yellow, five petals on a waist-high bush). While I had seen this plant blooming profusely elsewhere prior to this, there were few blooming here.

It's funny when there are a lot of something, you don't really look; when there are few, you tend to examine them more closely. 

It probably helps that the flowers are an electric yellow, too, and even though they are small they really stand out against their darker green leaves.

Anyway, I had never noticed before that the space between the petals forms a perfect star!

Cinquefoil flower: can you find the star within the star?

Rather stupidly, I picked the flower, thinking that I could put it in water and try to draw it later; I haven't tried to draw anything yellow, and I was looking forward to that unique experience, noticing the subtle shades from butter yellow to chartreuse. The plant seemed robust and somewhat resinous, so I figured that the flower would last.

Unfortunately, it it did not. It wilted into a sad little  bundle, beyond redemption. I retraced my steps, hoping to find another flower to draw from in situ, but there were none left.

So... it's funny how sometimes you learn — and remember — the more from your failures than your successes.

All the little things

Bee on white yarrow.

One of the best things about this interlude was being able to look — really look — at all the little things.

Sometimes I get so caught up in the grandeur of  the mountains and rivers and glaciers of this the "Great Land," that I forget each individual part that makes it up.

It's a kind of fractal magnificence.

Like each drop of water that gathers into a rivulet, then a creek, and then converges into a wide, roaring river, so does each part of the land combine to create the whole.

But everything starts with the small things: each pebble, petal, hair and feather.

It's an amazing place. I'm so glad I can be here to enjoy it and have this experience.

Winter is coming 

Changes

Time is passing. Winter is coming. 

Again, there are small things:
- Just one golden leaf hangs on a birch branch amid all the others that are green.
- Flowers are going to seed.
- Berries grow large and colorful.
- Small plants seemingly burst overnight from green to yellow or orange.
- Ducklings are eating and growing and getting stronger so they can fly south.
- Bears are growing fat on fish and berries.
- Caribou antlers can grow an inch a day in anticipation of the fall rut (I kid you not).
- And the days are growing shorter, almost imperceptably, but it's inexorable.

Make the best use of your time that you can. As my mother, who always had an appropriate aphorism, said, "Make hay while the sun shines."

I'm off to make some hay!

Fireweed, going to seed. No wonder it's everywhere!