One man's wilderness is another man's theme park
On a cruise ship- nothing fails like excess.
You don’t buy clothes, you wear them –North Face, Columbia and Patagonia; and in that order I see the passengers in gear, rough and ready for some precip(atation) with anticipation. As I am doing laps, swimming onboard the Golden Princess’ heated pool, 250 year old glacier melt's myst hits my face at the speed of trust. I have to re-evaluate my assertion: If Hollywood is loneliness beside the swimming pool, then Norway is solitude by the fjords.I am safe in the solitude of being a tourist. It plays more like a Disney animated feature film than a true Alaskan adventure.
Every one has a photographic memory, but not everyone film
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| York Cathedral-For Real |
Glacier bay is closer now, and it plays like a Hemingway story; everything is sepia-toned and bristling with subtext and I catch the mystery, power and vulnerability of nature.
I love watching the sun on the water, but I don't have to go to the sun. I just love knowing it is there. Same goes for AlaskaI probably will never get there again after this season, but I can imagine being there. I'm just content knowing this big wilderness is still there.
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Even after all this time, the sun and mountains never says to the earth 'you owe me'. Look what happens with a love like that. It lights up the whole sky
