The sunsets in the Arctic region linger like a stone skipping a few times before it sinks into wavy water. The photons travel through a great deal more of earth’s atmosphere than in the lower 48. The result is many unusual displays: photons bending, refracting, shown through ice crystals. I captured an interesting phenomena as the sunset on my plane ride from Kobuk to Ambler. The sun-burst reminds me of how many of us drew the sun as children: long rays emanating from a crayola yellow-orange orb.
When in Ambler you must amble… After the picture day sessions I set out looking to capture a view of Ambler and the Brooks range that holds a vigilant watch to the north and spans over 100 degrees of the compass. Hiking along the road grew tiresome so I set off through a stand of aspen. A Bev Doolittle picture came alive before my eyes as I plotted the best angle to capture a particularly uppity stand of dwarf aspen that clung to the permafrost. Back on the road, I made my way further up the slope curious of every path that veered off the road. I had not encountered any Hondas, (four-wheelers) or trucks. It would appear that I had the hill to myself. At a fork in the road I looked both directions and saw a grove of trees that shepherded a number of crosses to my right. On approach I noted that the crosses seemed to all face the mountains, probably a significant totem to the Inuipaq of the region.
As I took a number of pictures of the scene, I made note of the crosses. They were clusters of family graves. I looked at the Ticketts’ clan site. A number of them died early: Rodney Tickett Jr. and Tony Tickett both died at 18 years of age, as did Derek Sam Reed. Why so many deaths in the late teens? I learned from Paul Clark, the principal at Deering School that the number one cause of death for teens is suicide, and that it often happens in May even as the ice is breaking up and spring is about to spring. Why at such a hopeful time of year, when things are about to spring back to life do they take their lives? He hypothesized that their diet might contribute. A lack of vitamin D causes SADS (Seasonal Affective Disorder Syndrome). Traditionally much of the Inuit diet consisted of seal, walrus, and whale. All have high amounts of vitamin D. With the advent of a more processed American diet, they were lacking in this key vitamin that is often produced by exposure to sunlight. Yet the sun shines so weakly and for such a short period in the winter that it does not trigger the necessary chemical reaction in the skin. Alcohol was a close second, as Paul observed and many others I spoke with: there is no such thing as a social drink here. You drink to get drunk and these teens had access to sno-gos and Hondas, insert any number of horror stories here. We might not have given them blankets laced with smallpox virus, but our culture can definitely have a devastating effect on this native population.
Early this morning my wife called, I had been expecting her to call. Her voice wavered, and I could tell she had been crying and it was everything she could do to keep it together to tell me the news I had been coming to expect over the last couple weeks. Our cat Miel had shown some signs of recovery but ultimately could not overcome the shutting down of his kidneys and severe anemia. “He got up and ate this morning”, reported Heather which was a major feat considering he could hardly use his hind legs these past couple days. I conjured up the image of our cat in my head with the recent surgeries he had: a shaved belly, and his two front feet were shaved so it looked as though he were wearing ugzs footwear. What a stylin’ cat to the end! We’ll have to add one more name to the growing list of names that he has earned over the years: Miel, Noodle, Udon noodle, Buddha, Buddha belly, Ugzs. What would be the secret name he keeps to himself ala the musical Cats? “I held him in the crook of my arm and he purred for a half an hour before we left for the vet” Heather described. Heather used to joke that she was the cuddler and I was his playmate as I goaded him up the six-foot high cat post as I would empty the basket of cat toys “playing rough” as Heather would call it with the cat. He would spike like a volleyball player the various balls I tossed at him until he grew tired and offered his Buddha belly to me to pet if I dare… The other night Heather, the great cuddler, had worked the cat up into a great purring frenzy and put the transmitter-side of the phone to his mouth. A warm purring rattled the phone and I could hear him gulping back some of his saliva as he does when he’s really happy and drools all over. At that moment I said goodbye to him, knowing that I would likely not see or hear him in the flesh again.
A full moon rose over the Brooks Mountains to the east. The air became chillier as I continued east looking for the best vantage to capture the moon as it rose. I choose some flowers that decorated a grave site and a grove of trees to vignette the frame, as the eye would be lead back to the mountains and moon against the rich blue sky. I lingered, captivated by the scene even though I knew I must be getting back in case the plane would arrive early. I skirted the hilltop, heading south following a four-wheeler trail. I took another composition of the moon, this time a dead tree, with a large stand of aspen in the middle ground that popped out like spirits hovering, waiting for the moon to give an order. I could sense another sound on the horizon, a Honda or a plane? I made my way back west running at times down the slope, hoping to make it to the main road so at least the maintenance guy could find me. My steps turned to large bounds padded by soft mukluk soles, the ground crunching under foot. Familiar landmarks raced by, would I make it? I made it to the road in time to see that it was indeed rush hour to the airport as a number of Hondas buzzed by with trailers jumping to the bumps that riddled the road. I ran again at a brisk pace as I approached town I could see the very large trailer pulled by a smiling maintenance man. I made it as I looked down to see that I was one glove short. I must of dropped it here on the main road since I had them all the way down the hill. He took me quickly back to the school to retrieve my camera bag that I left in the principal’s office. Sherry McKenzie, the principal saw my haste as I interrupted a meeting and told me that it was not my Bering Air flight. Witnessing the temperament of this maintenance guy, I knew that he would not waste any energy on loading my equipment into the trailer unless there was need. So I told her goodbye and ran to my waiting ride, knowing that the plane was early and I must hurry to catch it. The crunch and groan of the ice was audible over the hum of the engine. After dodging the minefield of potholes at the bridge, we went full throttle up the hill past a streak of aspen to the airport. Yes, we made it just in time! I saw the Bering Agent, Henry Mack loading some of the last of the gear in his truck. I had taken his portrait with his family the night before and smiled as we approached. Away to Kotzebue now, and more adventures…
I want to thank all of the people who supported Heather as she cared for our ailing cat. I especially want to thank Kimberly Brewster, who gave us courage and helped us ask the right questions during this difficult time. We are so happy to be supported by so many people. You guys are the best! I know that when any of you are in need of support we can be there for you. As for the kitten, he was truly an extraordinary cat with some dog tendencies mixed in. He had been with Heather and I since the very beginning and though we will miss him dearly, we recognize that it was his time. We were glad to share those many years with him as he kept life interesting by providing a warm lap and play routine that will be sorely missed.
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