Summer runs swiftly in Alaska, I’m told. So perhaps it’s not surprising that our brief recent visit there at times took on the characteristics of a forced march.
Places to go, people to see – and almost always in the company of a large group: 50+ people traveling on a motorcoach; if not the 3,000+ onboard our cruise ship. So “be on time, please”…even if that means having your suitcase packed and set outside your lodge-room door by 6:30 AM.
Not exactly a ‘vacation vibe,’ especially for a graybeard like me … who’s grown jealously attached to days that come with a leisurely pace.
Ah, wilderness! (Experienced in the company of a few hundred of my closest friends…)
Still I was aware of how deeply we were being blessed, my traveling companions and I, even as we sometimes struggled to keep up with the frenetic pace. God’s bounty, and much God-fashioned beauty, were in evidence everywhere. We were immersed in spectacular splendor.
Splendor abounded, often found just around the bend.
We enjoyed memorable cultural encounters too – notably, the seasonal workers who often chauffeured or served or ferried us around. They all clearly loved the place enough to return summer after summer. Most spoke of Alaska with a reverent tone, I noticed; respectfully aware of its wild and wooly side. And most also shared how they were happy to relocate to the Lower 48 just as soon as Alaska’s early autumn winds begin to blow.
Seasonal workers — our guides — kept us busy as beavers each day.
Then there were the Athabaskans and other First People clans. They tended to express a different sort of connection to this bountiful place: humble and grateful and deferential. They’ve learned to scrape and gather an existence from these environs, but without ever presuming to have triumphed over its wild lands and waters.
Even a wild and woolly land will yield its bounty to the well-initiated.
And so I found the First Peoples teaching me something I had not expected to learn while on vacation. I never had to forage during my brief summer stay in Alaska, but foraging for most of them is an integral part of daily routine at least nine months a year. Which is to say, our First Alaskan hosts remain profoundly connected to Divine Providence.
That’s not a bad place to be. There’s a hard-earned wisdom in it – a hint of which I detect in the invitation Jesus extends to his followers in this week’s Gospel passage. “Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while,” Jesus says. They never quite get there: the apostles find no rest in the deserted place, because of all the recently-arrived tourists pressing in around them.
Still, I have to think they learn a lesson in the company of Jesus, their Good Shepherd. Seasons change, circumstances evolve – but Christ remains constant in his care and generosity towards them. And us.
Come away and rest a while…
Let us pause now…to recall that we are in the presence of the Holy & Merciful One.
IHS
PS: In recent years, I’ve learned a great deal about the challenges faced by Catholic Christians in Alaska…by becoming a supporter of the Diocese of Fairbanks. The bishop’s periodic newsletter is a must-read! You can become a supporter too, if you’re so inclined. Contact: http://www.dioceseoffairbanks.org
With Us Still 
John, Great series and SUPER Photography. We also have had the pleasure of an Alaskan Cruise/Trip and couldn’t agree with you more. Our exposure with the native Alaskan folks was incredible. Thanks for sharing,
My pleasure, I thoroughly enjoy reliving the moments!