We land on a gravel out-wash that is low, flat, and braided with leaping streams.
The stream itself seems to defy gravity, somehow leaping above the level where we stand watching it without ever breaking free and flowing down to us.
Like all of Alaska, the whole world seems to spread out from where we stand toward some distant eternity.
It is wondrous, but at the same time, I keep wondering if there are bears nearby.
There is no sign of bears, but I find a lot of really great rocks. . .
. . . lots and lots of really great rocks with stripes and spots and blotches of all colors. It seems as if rocks from all across the earth have been dropped right here on this ordinary beach.
What little sun is breaking through the clouds is about to leave for the evening. Time for dinner.