One more Bering Sea storm this summer. Seems as though there has been a never ending collection this year. As the world south of me, connected merely by the title of the United States, fights heats they've rarely ever seen, I'm stricken with water and wind. Dark clouds trace the path of the Yukon River making their way barely inland and then fading while playing in circles between Alaska and Siberia. I mustn't complain, for I quite like the dark days. Keeps the dust on the dirt roads grounded and the willows thrive to their prime in such conditions. So as this day passes just as most this summer have, I'll not take for granted the droplets dripping down my window. Perhaps I'll even join them outside my front door.
