Alaska’s landscape offers gifts of salmon and solace

RYAN REYNOLDS

July 03, 2008 at 1:47PM AKST

Line spools outward with a flick of my wrist, casting the hook over and outward into the silt-laden waters of the creek before me, setting in motion once more the reel and pull, tug and tumble that is salmon fishing on a Sunday afternoon.

Lately I have found myself prisoner in a world of great expectations and painful missed opportunities, of cold wet feet and fishing line disasters. I am torn between relaxation and, at times, monotonous labor in the quest for red flesh and a full smoker.

Perhaps my inner chipmunk has been channeled. The drive to store away, to slave and save and to fill the freezer that fights the winter chill seems to be running strong among so many of us here, and for good reason.

According to my sources in Texas (thanks Dad!), fresh Alaska salmon is topping $23 a pound. That’s enough to prompt visions of finned hundred-dollar bills spawning upstream at times, but it also runs contrary to my purpose.

There are few places left in the world that allow us to take as active a part in the food chain as we can here. It is at once a precious gift as well as a reminder of a changing ecosystem that threatens millennia of tradition.

So many of us are drawn here, in part because we have a need, whether it be spoken or silent, to immerse our tired bodies in the spell of a land brimming with such life that a moments passing, prone amid the fragrant lupines or high atop a sun-washed peak, can wash away a month of hardship. There is power here.

In that same sense of seeking balance, I have always seen hunting and fishing as avenues for a deeper understanding of the natural world, and why not? The act of taking the life of another should never be trivialized.

Ancient and modern customs exist to highlight the significance of such actions boldly taken. Sharp contrasts emerge as life ebbs from one creature, flowing to another. It is a time for thanks and respect, for all life involves death. It is simply a matter of how much of that burden of blood we are willing to bear.  

And so, I have been trying to play my part. I am trying to remember to say thank you with each fish pulled from the river, its journey cut short by my desire.

I give thanks for the gift of one so that another may prosper. It’s a relationship bound by life renewed and life’s departure. A system so complex it can only be understood in minutiae.  

At times, I think life might be nothing more than a series of relationships, large or small, each precious, that collectively sum up our existence.

It’s not only the friendly hello we give to a neighbor on the street or a much-needed hug from a friend that enrich our lives, but the care you take of an old sweater. The pleasure found in a foggy morning’s cup of coffee.

If we can devote ourselves to pouring energy and enthusiasm into each one of those fragile ties, then our collective web will be as strong as our desire for joy and fulfillment, and each day will be a celebration of all that we are. All that we were. All that we can be.

Keep your eyes on the mountain.

Ryan Reynolds can be found at the library smelling old books and sometimes wearing argyle socks. He can be reached at 224-4082 or rreynolds@cityofseward.net.