Saturday, March 23, 2013
"They are here still, physically and within it's soul, now frozen within the preserved Ice Age, are thousands of years and millions of stories undisclosed. Of times when Woolly Mammoth trumpeted in a land now changed forever. Tracks in the mud now covered and trails grown over or trampled by modern Caribou. Camps of our ancestors overgrown and lost beneath deposited sedges and lichen layered over a time replaced with seemingly endless cycles around the sun. Ivory exposed to the hunters of the tundra, to those surrounded by hordes of mosquitoes, and storms racing out of Siberia. Cold camps, as tents flattened by offshore winds over 45 mph, sometimes for days. I walk anyway on the beaches as my eyes water from the chill, and look into the ebb-tides and frozen beaches as I go in no different manner as the hunters of the clan of the Mammoth...relentless."