To the Lover of the Wilderness...

It is 4am and the sun meets me at the window like an old, familiar friend. The mist and fog hangs not he mountain tops, indicative of the once volcanic and ice-filled valleys. 

My small life feels wholely significant among the mist and meanings this place holds. 

I want to leave here, yet I am drawn so strongly to it. 

Flying over the luminous clouds, I can see the islands, wilderness, and mountains, and snow all at once. 

So much nature begs me to stay. 

"I will be back." Says my mind. 

But my heart knows I will never really leave. Alaska never departs the wild at heart. 

It has stuck, become a part of me, inexplicable and completely clear all at once.