Now in Anchorage, we had one final destination before we headed to the airport.  The first thing that struck me about the city was that the only other place I had ever seen so many Native people was in Santa Fe.  It was so good to see.  We settled on the Alaska Native Heritage Center as our last place to visit.  It is an educational and cultural institution that shares the heritage of Alaska’s eleven major cultural groups.  Located only ten miles from downtown, it is situated on twenty-six wooded acres.  I found the dances were unfamiliar to me, as my heritage is Choctaw.  But they were interesting to observe and learn more about.  We toured different life-sized dwellings and spoke directly with people who were Athabaskan, Tlingit, Haida and Aleut.  I found the whale bones fascinating; at first I thought they were wooly mammoth tusks.  It was getting dark despite the early hour and I realized I had never traveled so far, nor had I been away for so long.  As we made our way to the airport I realized I was ready to come home.  One of the people whom I admire the most, Laura Ingalls Wilder, said that home is the nicest word there is.  I agree.

It was time to depart.  But we still had two cities scheduled to see and things to do.  We were greeted with an enormous Hummer SUV and our destination was the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center, a nonprofit organization that cares for injured or orphaned animals on 144 acres located just off the Seward Highway.  I thought it was a wonderful place to visit not only because we got to get out and see so many majestic animals up close, but more importantly, knowing they were there for help.  And our patronage was serving to help as well.  We saw adorable foxes curled up cozily, a brown bear sitting on his haunches, owls blinking at us sleepily, and my favorite was the biggest moose I had ever encountered.  He was sweet and shy but I notice he was not without companionship.  There were also bison, elk, caribou and musk ox.  Any time we get a chance to support wildlife or wild places we try to do so.  They are our true national treasure.  In his book “The Wild Places” travel writer Robert Macfarlane notes:

“Wild animals, like wild places, are invaluable to us precisely because they are not us.  They are uncompromisingly different.  The paths they follow, the impulses that guide them, are of other orders.  The seal’s holding gaze, before it flukes to push another tunnel through the sea, the hare’s run, the hawk’s high gyres;  such things are wild.  Seeing them, you are made briefly aware of a world at work around and beside our own, a world operating in patterns and purposes that you do not share.  These are creatures, you realise that live by voices inaudible to you.”

My first big trip had been so magical.  I did things I never thought I would do — from zip lines to mushing sled dogs to taking a helicopter and riding in a giant Tomcat SUV up a glacier.  As for our last non stop day at sea … it was rough.  Visions of the Titanic flitted through my head as it got very choppy on board and for the first time the ship really lurched.  I remember watching the curtains sway violently while, like our time in the helicopter, I battled a secret fear of imminent death.  Poor Burk literally turned so green with sea sickness he had to see the ship’s doctor.  Then it finally felt like the “Love Boat”!  Outside the skies were grey and the water was grey.  Inside the formal dining room the chandeliers gleamed a warm, inviting light which danced off the silver and crystal.  We had gotten to know our servers and the staff and it was like saying good-bye to family.  After dinner I enjoyed my last cigar and soaked for the final time in that beautiful marble tub filled with bubbles as crisp air and the sounds of ocean swells blew through the sheer curtains from my open balcony.  One tradition Burk and I started on this trip is what we call “schlock shopping”.  I love little souvenirs — especially stuffed toy animals and magnets.  And, as a wolf lover, I had hit the jackpot!  At every port Burk would help me scout for wolf things to add to my collection.  I still have them all and I cherish each one.  They bring back a little part of our trip every time I see them.  I am so fortunate that Burk spent his own money so I could go along on this magnificent journey.  It will always hold a special place in my heart; just as he does.  The novelist and poet Cesare Pavese is credited with saying we do not remember days, we remember moments.  I think if you’re really lucky, in the special times, you remember both.

After having woken up each morning some place different for almost a week, I thought for sure I would be acclimated by then to the delightful shock of wondering where I was.  But nothing could have prepared me for this.  I will never forget going to my balcony right above the water in the early morning hours after being awakened by the booming, crackling sound of thunder.  Only it wasn’t thunder; rather it was massive chunks of a glacier breaking off and falling into the sea.  It was scary, awe inspiring, and mesmerizing for me in particular because the ice was a deep, dark shade of my favorite color — blue.  According to the National Park Service, Glacier Bay covers “3.3 million acres of rugged mountains, dynamic glaciers, temperate rainforest, wild coastlines and deep sheltered fjords.”  It is a highlight of Alaska’s Inside Passage as well as a World Heritage Site.  One of the largest international protected areas, it rests on 25 million acres.  Since our ship was smaller we were able to get closer than some of the behemoths.  I could not believe we were just passing idly by as nature was, in all her sound and fury, warning us in 2006 of things to come.  I pray we take global warming seriously.  I pray for the wildlife struggling to survive:  the wolves, the polar bears, the lynx and the wolverine.  I pray for the otters, the whales, the seals and the sea lions.  I pray for the eagles, the puffins, the herons and the gulls.  I pray for all God’s creatures and this one planet we all share.  The first female Chief of the Cherokee Nation, Wilma Mankiller, once said that in Iroquois society, leaders are encouraged to remember seven generations in the future when making decisions that affect the people.  I pray that we may not simply survive but thrive — for the sake of us all as well as the next seven generations to come.  Achukma hoke.