It was exciting. In a matter of minutes the village awoke from it's winter rest and became a bustling summer town. It was the first spring, in the three years I have resided in Alaska, that I was present for the break-up of the Yukon River. A late spring made for thin ice this year, but that didn't stop it from pushing itself into towers upon the shore. The strength of the melting mountain snows upriver creates a current so full of wrath that it tosses breaks of ice against anything in it's wake. This causes a rush of people to run to the beach as the ice begins to move. A procrastinator's panic ensues and everyone frantically tries to pull their boats from the water before the ice takes it away. Rouge children escape the playground and run to watch the ice build up- sometimes ten times taller than them. And I, stood in awe among the chaos. People yelling, pulling, children weaving in and out of it all, and the ice, deaf to the village sounds, pushing itself into it all. After a long, quiet winter seeing the town so suddenly come to life left me feeling every so welcoming to summer.
