Friends

Welcome, summer!

(Click on each photograph to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

This series comes from one of my many summer adventures in Alaska with some very tough and fun women. It also seems like a fitting way to welcome summer.

We did an adventure in the Chugach Mountains, in Chugach State Park outside of Anchorage. Though we knew where we were on the map, we couldn’t our way once the clouds and rain hit us as we climbed over a pass. It was fun, with some moments to pause because of the steep terrain and cliff drops.

Back in the day, 10 or more years ago and before my mom developed Alzheimer’s disease and later passed away, I used to live more adventurously.

These days I no longer head to the high altitudes. One day I simply stopped going.

I still miss being with people who didn’t complain about: being lost, being wet, being cold, and having expeditions go awry.

Half the point of having an adventure (in the wild, in a job, with someone you love, or working to change things) is to get lost and maintain your calm when things don’t go as planned. However, if you are in the wild, be sure you do that with the right people, like my two friends.

Please, go out, do something that makes you very uncomfortable, and don’t worry if things don’t go as planned.

 

 

The joy of fellowship

(Click on each photo to see a larger picture on a separate picture page.)

Today, I learned of the death of an old friend, Carter, who I had the great pleasure of getting to work with for a year in Seattle for an employer in the early 2000s. He was one of the people who made that short chapter of my life there meaningful.

He died from Alzheimer’s disease, which is a horrible illness. I did not have a chance to say goodbye.

However, his passing also served as an important reminder to me that the essence of life is indeed death. Death gives life meaning. It is the universal characteristic of all living things. It provides purpose and shape. It should not be feared. We all are touched by it and we all lose ones who we love (something we are thinking of now with COVID-19).

I will remember Carter with fondness. I will recall the times we spent in conversations about his son, his wife, and his many experiences, such as serving in the Peace Corps in the Caribbean after he was trained as an architect.

I took these shots on the porch of my home in Seattle in 2003, where I was joined by a wonderful group of people. One was born in Sweden, another in Iraq. We ate salmon, laughed, drank wine and beer, enjoyed a summer night, and savored what it means to be alive in fellowship.