I met my Mountain Boy at a park adjoining Mendenhall Valley on the way home from work this afternoon.
The weather had tried mightily to be sunny today, and actually partially succeeded.
By this afternoon the weather was lovely - warm, some clouds, some sun. A wonderful day in Juneau Alaska.
By the time I got to the parking lot, my Mountain Boy had already snapped a bunch of pictures while waiting for me.
There were many tourists milling around the lot, with tour buses parked alongside. They were taking pictures of the beautiful scene in front of them - the mountains, the meadows full of wildflowers, the Mendenhall River, the ever-present Mendenhall Glacier. Surprisingly, they were not walking on the paved walking trail.
My first inclination as I drove up was to suggest to LC that we go somewhere else. Too many people.
But he had not stopped at this place yet, and as beautiful as it was, it was a good day to walk the trail, talk about our respective days, take some pictures, and enjoy the beautiful day in this beautiful place.
I don't know a lot of about flowers, but these purple flowers are everwhere in Juneau in the summertime.
They are along the roadways, in every yard, in every field, along the riverbeds. They are beautiful - absolutely beautiful - and they are abundant in the summer in Alaska.
The Mendenhall Glacier follows me everywhere. It is always present. Always beautiful. Always calling to pay it attention and admire it........with the ice field and very rugged snow capped mountains surrounding it.
We had so much incredibly beautiful weather in the spring, and three consecutive weeks of non-stop blue skies, sunshine and warm temperatures not long before LC arrived in Juneau.
For the past month we have had almost non-stop rain, clouds, fog and cool temperatures. My Mountain Boy has found it difficult to adjust to such weather.
But today he called me late in the afternoon and told me that the weather was beautiful and he wanted to walk.
Yesterday he fished. Today he walked happily in the nice weather.
Juneau weather takes some getting used to - for some people it takes a lot of getting used to.....
But places like this help a lot.
Places like this, as beautiful as this, calm me. And LC also.
I have seen this peak from the Glacier Visitors Center, from the lake while kayaking, from the top of West Glacier Trail looking out over the ice field, from this accessible park. It stands out ruggedly and angrily against the snow and ice that surrounds it. It speaks to me........
My Mountain Boy watching protectively. The sign in the foreground says something about being cautious because the bank was fragile, and I was standing on it taking a picture of the river.
Alongside the paved trail was another sign indicating a horse trail through the meadow. A tall sign in tall grass and tall flowers. Such a beautiful way to spend an hour after work!
On the way home we stopped at Auke Lake.
On one side of the lake is Auke Trail - a wide open, easy to walk, very accessible dirt trail. It is a hugely popular trail with the locals.
On the other side of the lake is a parking lot where you can easily walk down to the shore of the lake and take some quiet pictures.
There have been times where the lake was so incredibly calm that it was almost mirror-like. And I have taken pictures when the snow capped mountains were reflected absolute and perfect in the lake.
Today was not quite that calm, but it was beautiful none-the-less.
And because there is really no trail to speak of there, it was ours alone. Always a very good thing.
It is completely gorgeous there.
Float planes resting along one shore. Mountains and glacier. Hills and valleys. Quiet coves and fishing spots. Beautiful homes along one shore. A small pine tree and moss covered area.
It is small and beautiful. But the area it overlooks is majestic, huge and beautiful.
LC taking a picture of me taking a picture......
"To An Alaskan Glacier"
Out of the cloud-world sweeps thy awful form,
Vast frozen river, fostered by the storm
Upon the drear peak's snow-encumbered crest,
Thy sides deep grinding in the mountain's breast
As down its slopes thou plowest to the sea
To leap into thy mother's arms, and be
There cradled into nothingness...
John Burroughs
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