Celebrating, and how we "see"

Honestly, I'm really not all that big on birthdays. I never like being the center of attention, and that's what birthdays do.

However, free stuff? That's another matter!

Sculpture: Human Emerging from Nature

Just so you all realize, I don't patronize Starbucks. Just can't rationalize paying $4 for a beverage that costs $1 or less to make, but when the offer came across, well... I'll take it. And I had to stay in Whitehorse to get it, as there's not another Starbucks around for probably 300 miles!

So I had a leisurely breakfast with a hot beverage of choice, reading the Yukon News and catching up on email and friends' news and answering birthday wishes.

It turned out to be a rather spectacular and very full day.

I was glad, because I was somewhat out of sorts at leaving.

On the way out of town, I headed up to the Yukon Arts Center on the Yukon College campus to get a final stamp for my Yukon Gold passport. I remembered going there last year when they had an interesting photography exhibit in the gallery.

Sculpture inspired by human shadows at Hiroshima

This time, feeling lazy and self-indulgent and very reticent to leave, I explored around the campus a bit more.

There is a sculpture garden, with some very lovely pieces, with most of them being on the theme of humans and their relationship with nature.

My favorite was probably the one of the human cutout in a rock stela. It had been inspired by the shadow silhouettes found on standing walls at Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

The placement of the stela outside in the landscape was thought-provoking and gave a far different meaning than if the piece had been indoors. What effect does man have on the environment? What do we leave on the natural world? What ARE we doing to the environment? Will only our shadows be left? Are we transparent? How do we see nature through the filter of ourselves? Are we limited in how we see nature, just because we are human? Is the message more hopeful, that the world opens up if only we can get past ourselves and see through it?

There were others; I think all of them were by First Nations sculptors. Another installation was a meandering pathway through the aspen forest, with stopping points at large boulders that had been carved into recumbent animals: a raven, a turtle(?), a face. All were part of the earth, and I think they were carved in situ.

Could not figure out the meaning of this sculpture

From here it looks like a pod robot flying a kite. 

There was one that I honestly failed to interpret, and the explanatory plaque was missing. It was a metal (iron) sculpture made from "found" objects. From one angle, it looked like a motorcycle with a side pannier full of rocks. There was also a metal egg carton (!!), and some stone carving.

Here is is from another angle. What do you think?

What is it about us that wants to "see" something in what might be nothing? Why do we see the face of Jesus in a piece of burned toast? Is it our need to impose order on chaos?

It is puzzling that sometimes something we don't understand is even more intriguing than something that we DO  understand!

Exploring a bit more,  I was lured by the view across the Yukon, and found another piece of the TransCanada Trail! I walked along it for aways, until the larger-than-life standing "bear aware" sign. Since I really hadn't anticipated on hiking, and I didn't have any gear (bear spray, water, etc.) with me, I turned back.

Once inside, I got my passport stamped, and went into the gallery.

The exhibit this time was on "camera obscura." Grants for a number of artists had been given out, with the result that a variety of installations had gone up in the Yukon. The theme of these installations was that the viewer had to enter a dark space in order to experience the image captured, so that there was an element of trust between the viewer and the artist. The history of the camera obscura was discussed, and while I felt this aspect of the installation was a bit obtuse, I do like the fact that a camera obscura is ON SITE, so you are experiencing the scene, while narrowing focus to enjoy it.

So there is the question: do we need to narrow focus? I think the joy of this trip is NOT narrowing focus, but being able to enjoy the full range of experience: the wind, the warmth of the sun, the gentle susurration of waves along the lakeside, the change of light as the day passes, the billowing of clouds in the distance, following an unknown pathway, even the annoyance of insects.

"Disused Portrait Camera Considers Wedgewood Vase"

That said, my favorite piece in this exhibit was a cabin-shaped tent covered with black canvas. Holes had been poked in the ceiling to emulate stars. The idea was that you could be inside during the long days of the midnight sun and be able to experience the starlight of night. As an adjunct, there was a table with mineral/rock samples, some of them highlighted by the "starlight." Not quite sure what that was about, but it was interesting and added another element of interest.

Another thought-provoking exhibit was entitled 'Andrew Wright's "Disused Portrait Camera Considers Wedgewood Vase" contemplates the advances of mass production on image technology on early forms of photography.'

Yukon River, with SS Keno reflected in a mirror

This artist also did a photography series taking pictures of himself (essentially selfies) holding a large "portrait" mirror so that the mirror reflected something out of the range of the camera.

For instance, there was a photo of him by the Yukon River in Dawson City, holding the mirror so it reflected the restored SS Keno, so it looked like it was on the water. It was a clever image.

Another was of one of an old building (maybe the warehouse?), with the mirror reflection being a young aspen tree. It was as if the tree was a ghost of what had been there before, or whence the building had come.

Pretty cool.

There were others. Evidently they had all been taken in Dawson City, so it was kind of fun to see places that I recognized!

I finally left.

I really needed to get going, but hey, it was my birthday, so no excuses, I get to do what i want today!

I headed out of Whitehorse, going south on the Alaska Highway, and then turned off onto the Klondike Highway to go to Carcross.

The Little Carcross Desert

I confess that the main reason I made this side trip was to get more stamps on my passport: the Visitor Center and the Post Office. I'm above the 20 that I need, but I figured, oh what the heck?

I'm so glad I did.

On the way to Carcross was beautiful Emerald Lake. Which is not really emerald, it's more that beautiful turquoise that comes from the marl (dissolved limestone) in the water.

Emerald Lake

I did think about ditching everything and paddling here, but I had ONLY just gotten on the road and made all of maybe 30 miles. It just didn't feel quite right to stop so soon. I determined to go on, especially since I wanted to go visit the "Little Carcross Desert" before dark!

The Little Carcross Desert: mountains, and mountains of sand

The "Desert" is basically sand that has been blown up from Lake Bennett, and accumulated into wind-shaped dunes. It is a fascinating place: the ONLY set of sand dunes like this in northwestern America. It is a bit eerie to see them here, surrounded by snow-capped peaks, but of course as long as there is a source for the sand, and wind, and an area where the sand can be collected, it makes perfect sense.

It's still very cool to see!

The Little Carcross Desert dunes

Besides just the beauty of the dunes, there was quite a bit of excitement. There were ATVers roaring around, and paragliders landing with their bright sails of many colors: rainbows, the red and white of the Canadian maple leaf, yellow. Not content to just skydive and land, they were doing acrobatic tricks, turning somersaults and making tight turns and dives as they came down. The Carcross airport is within a few miles, and pilots there are making a good business of catering to excitement-seekers!

Dunes everywhere

The dunes are pretty widespread, but you don't see JUST sand. While they are still active and being resupplied by the lake sand, there are stable dunes that have trees growing on them. In other places, the dunes are moving, burying trees that chose poorly on where to grow.

Asters proliferating in the dunes

In other places, the dunes are eroding around existing trees. Those trees will eventually die and fall, unless something changes. What was that Biblical parable about building on sand? (Not a good idea...)

The dunes also have small things to see: there are purple asters and lavender Jacob's ladders and dark lupine. All of these are rare species here, and adapted just to this small environment. It actually was something of a challenge to photograph these, since: WIND. The flowers were never still, bobbing and waving in the constant WIND.

Fortunately it was not so bad as to be blowing the sand. I've been in that and it can be pretty miserable.

It was pretty beautiful, and I spent several hours there hiking around the dunes, always wondering what was just beyond the next ridge.

Didn't look like I was going to make it to Teslin by dinnertime.

I stopped in "historic Carcross" just to see what it was like, and have been here ever since.

Carcross

I felt really dense, but all of a sudden everything made sense. Carcross, formerly called "Caribou Crossing," is on the shores of LAKE BENNETT. Lake Bennett is where the Klondikers, after coming over Chilkoot Pass with their ton of suppliees, built their boats to sail down the Yukon River on their journey to the Klondike gold fields, so this has been an area of white folks' activity for over 100 years.

The east shore of Lake Bennett, near Carcross

Of course, the First Nations people were here long before that. It is beautiful. There are fish in the rivers and lakes, birds and ducks flying above and with a name like "Caribou Crossing" it's a place where bigger game would come and pass through in the spring and autumn. Plus, the "narrows" here for some reason do not ice up in the winter; perhaps there is too much of a current, or perhaps it is just locally warm.

Boys and girls jumping off the bridge (somebody is losing his shorts)

Anyway, it was a warm Saturday summer afternoon, and people had come from miles around to frolic on the white sand beach and swim in the water. It's still cold, but since it's fairly shallow by the shore (knee or thigh deep) water there is tolerably warm.

There was wind, but not much. It was probably 80° and with that wide sandy beach, it's a perfect place for kids to play. It was so great to see families out: grandparents and aunties and sisters and uncles and dogs and children and babies. Toddles building sandcastles. Dogs chasing each other and fetching sticks. Teenages jumping in the waves and screaming and wading out in the water. Lovers kissing in the driftwood, couples walking hand-in-hand, and friends taking photos.

I walked for a long way down the beach until I ran out of people, and just shy of where the beach (the windward side of the lake) stopped.

It had been a long day, but just perfect. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my birthday!

Looking south, down Bennett Lake