The act of sketching changes how I perceive the world around me. My sketches become visual missives from my daily discoveries. Some are life-changing realizations — life lessons from the brush tip. Others illustrate a heightened awareness of the details around us. But you know what happens next: some pictures lead to a thousand words. And this blog.

Summer festoons the muskeg flanks of upper Sigugu Shaa, Two Ear Mountain. The double peaks dominate Hoonah’s skyline, but the striking view from town doesn’t even hint at the detailed abundance one finds at toe level. Tramping through the mist, at first, I only see olive-drab dwarf blueberry leaves. But near pools of bottomless mud, magenta, sunflower yellow, and royal purple flash. Higher up, soft-needled branches of bell heather crawl along the ground — parting for delicate

This past June, as a crew member on a whale-watching boat, I tried to share with the guests the vulnerability of the mountainous Tongass — its green velvet cushions rising out of ochre tide flat — and to help them understand how acres of old growth are essential in the fight against climate change. But why have that conversation with people who just want to see cool things while on vacation? And are rightly distracted by spouting whales, cavorting sea lions, and adorable otte

In the summer of 2020, Ben and I escaped the news for a month of sea kayaking in deserted Glacier Bay National Park. One breakfast, a bear emerged from the brush behind us and sauntered down to the waterline. I realized not only that bears love barnacles, but that in spite of all the terrifying threats looming over the real world, I was still more afraid of bears. Barnacles’ soft bodies are encircled by a case of hard calcium plates. They attach themselves via an incredibly p