I was talking to William on the phone today about his upcoming STINT project and the Summer Project I just got home from. I started telling him about how one of the many things I learned this summer was the way I can connect with God through nature in a way I never realized I could before. When he asked for some examples, I gave a few but couldn't stop thinking of more in my head. Here are a few that I want to share with you in words (rather than photos, which I lack anyway).
- Hiking to the glacier was probably my favorite day in all of project. The three or four miles out to the glacier was literally the best hike I've ever been on. We scaled some rock faces, walked through the woods, hiked on rock carved by the glacier itself long ago, saw some unbelievably fantastic views, and were physically challenged along the way. When we got there, we hiked on the flat part of the glacier for a bit. The flat part was huge, but not compared to the entire glacier, which turned from a crusty flatness into huge teal and white spikes of frozen water. We hiked down to the ice cave then, where a stream was running along the bottom of it. The cave looked dark in the brightness of the daylight, but when we went inside, a blue light illuminated the magical world around us from through the ice above us. The smooth walls of the cold glass was dripping water in certain spots. I got close to one bit of the wall and looked into the ice. It was dotted on the inside with tiny round air pockets; frozen bubbles. It looked like a lacy spiderweb. Then, just to say I did it (and to conform with all the other ladies), I licked the glacier. It tasted like nothing. It was wonderful.
- Although for most of Project, the summer night sky never got dark enough for stars to appear, toward the end, there was a clear night and it had gotten late enough in the summer that I walked outside around midnight and there they were: a skyful of stars. And there was the big dipper, bigger than I had ever seen it before. I always tell people that stars are my favorite part of nature, so when I saw them that night, and felt so close to Heaven, I just let my head back and gaped. In my delight, I also showed anyone that walked by (mainly Ben).
- The women spent a day climbing Mount Jumbo on Douglas Island. It was a very cloudy day and you couldn't see the mountain at all from the road (where normally it could be seen clearly) because of the low clouds. We climbed it anyway and it wasn't long before we were decidedly
in a cloud. It was a real shame not to have a view at any point that day, but the mystery of the atmosphere was so tranquil. We saw many beautiful things on that hike. So many flowers, rocks, patches of snow, a small clear stream with beautiful rocks sitting at the bottom, and of course, countless monstrous evergreens. We made it to the very peak and took lots of photos, but they don't look like much because of the fog. But we saw the beauty and lived in the unknown. And oh, how God plans and knows what we don't!
- For the last Women's Development that involved the staff being on Project, we went to Nugget Falls. I loved it. I scrambled up the rocks next to the falls by myself and admired the majesty and power of so much water coming seemingly from nowhere other than the side of a mountain. Beyond the falls in the near distance was Mendenhall Glacier, a gorgeous backdrop. Icebergs floated around unassumingly. Mountains rose in every direction. Small, vibrant flowers grew out of the huge rocks near me, which were themselves quite lovely, almost painted-looking. So God and I had a moment. I don't remember what we said to each other; probably very little. It was like we were wordlessly holding hands, squeezing with a ferocious and passionate love.
- For the women's closing ceremony with staff (I don't know what it was technically called), as well as our last-of-all Women's Development, we sat on a shore by Mendenhall lake. On the opposite side of the lake one could see the powerful, roaring Nugget Falls. From the distance it looked quite small, smaller than my thumb at arm's length. Beside it was several mountains, towering above and diminishing the falls. Remember the realistic hugeness of the falls brought me to the realization of the actual hugeness of the mountains that surrounded it. It was breathtaking to realize (again) how big everything around me was. And not only that, but stunningly beautiful. The second time we came to this location, the sunset turned the mountains pink. Can my words even do justice the breathtaking view that God gifted the thirteen of us ladies with that night? Oh, how he allures and pursues us!
- Just kidding, there is another time I was at this location; the day seven us joined Debbie, who took us kayaking for several hours across Mendenhall lake; first to the glacier, then to Nugget falls, around several icebergs, and back again. Just a different view and perspective of the same place, and as beautiful as ever from middle of the tranquil, silty lake.
- This (fishing day):
http://juneausummerproject.com/?p=624
- We went camping at a sandy place called boy scout beach one night. Oh, how the sun was setting over the ocean channel that ran alongside the path that we took on the way out! How the flowers before and the mountains behind that channel dazzled! The tide was so low when we got there that we could go quite far out on the wet beach, where gulls mingled on rotting logs. The sun set late in orange streams, leaving the sky a dim blue even at midnight. Later, a golden moon set slowly but measurably over the nearby(-ish) range of snow-capped mountains.
- I'm not even going to mentions the other sunsets I saw at Blue Mussel Cabin, the island on the night of the summer solstice, or at The Shrine.
- Speaking of the night on that island (the name of which I don't even know, but it was in Auke Bay), there was something I experienced more than saw; exploring almost the whole island on my own. I went up and over, walked along the rocky beach on the other side, then scrambled all the way up the trail-less "mountain," where I hollered a few times into the trees. Climbing down was an adventure as I may or may not have gotten stuck in a patch of devil's club, and also had to slide on the mud on my butt a few times. I loved it. Having my own private adventure was the "Chris McCandless" of the summer that I needed. Just me, God, and the trees.
- On the flight out of Seattle on the way home (technically not in Juneau but still part of my summer experience), the plane was so high up that the mountains below us looked small, and the crevices between them had clouds sitting, settled. Then we passed, very nearly at the same level, the most ginormous, rugged, powerful, majestic mountain I have ever seen. It diminished the mountains below it to nothing. The patches of snow on it must have been miles wide. Its jagged peaks boasted its grandeur. Later that day, I couldn't believe the beauty and magnitude of a particular cloud. In between our plane and the cloud, I saw two other planes fly in the opposite direction, zooming past looking smaller than a grain of rice. And how miniscule they were next to the monstrous, white, wispy cloud in the distance, which took us half an hour at least to pass!
UPDATE: The mountain I saw was, I'm pretty sure, Mount Rainier. Look it up. Please.
- Daily views are hard to mention specifically. Many times I walked out of my job at Walmart and stood on the bus stop amazed at the mountains that surrounded us. Many times on a cloudy day, I watched clouds sift and mingle amongst the towering trees on mountainsides. Many times I saw blazing patches of the appropriately-named fireweed. Many times I looked out the car window (in fact, every time I was in a car, I was looking out the window), and my jaw dropped as I tried not to press my nose against the glass, even though we drove on the same road every day. Many times I was hiking and couldn't believe the plants, the trees, the streams, waterfalls, and rocks. Simply couldn't believe it. Many times I marveled that in the heat of summer there was still snow on mountaintops.
I promise I did more in Juneau than look at pretty things, but can you blame me for letting these experiences and sights burn in my memory like a branding? Surely God has branded my mind with his beauty, yet I thirst for more.
I don't intend to make anyone jealous, and I'm sorry if that's the result of you reading this, but I plead with you to share in my joy. Frankly, I will probably keep thinking of more things I want to record (like the cross at the top of Mount Roberts), but many of them would be lame to describe, something like "I was walking to UAS rec center in my sock feet and the trees were so beautiful and I marveled at the mountains and trees and I prayed." Sounds just like many of my other experiences, but truly profound for me in the moment and another treasured piece of my summer. Please, just... go to Juneau. Or some other Cru Summer Project or mission trip. Or somewhere in the world. Please, get out of your living room and go see and experience something. Why? Because God made it for you.
See other posts for photos.
God bless.
