Can a Photo Really Live up to Memory? | Aurora Borealis in Alaska’s National Parks

Last fall, I stepped outside and in the distance, off to my left, was a luminescent, wiggly band of light. Soon the whole sky above me had been taken over by dancing, sparkling bands. Green, white, pink flashed through the stars. Seriously, straight over my head! At the time, I couldn’t be convinced to look away to take a photo. I was mesmerized by the phenomenon I’d heard so much about, but never expected this.

 Sometimes I wonder if a place can be as beautiful in real life as it is in a photograph. How much did the creator behind the image manipulate their work to be better than memory? Watching the Northern Lights in Alaska surpassed any photo I’d ever seen. And there are some beautiful photographs out there! My whole body welled with emotion and awe while watching. Then other times I question, “Can a photograph really capture the magic of real life scenery?” Yes, when I look back at these photos I can remember just how I felt. The magic that coursed through my veins tingles again. Even if that sounds dramatic, I know you can remember a time when nature made your heart soar. Photos always take me back to that feeling.

 It’s something I’ve heard folks I work with comment on too. There are usually nerves on whether or not a photo or video could ever really live up to your memory. A special event or big moment can seem too precious, too perfect in your mind. How could anything capture that? Then you sit down and finally look through your photos and watch your video – and realize it really can capture your exact emotions. I’ve heard brides tell me this after watching their wedding video and it’s so amazing to hear!

 Eventually the Northern Lights moved off into another direction and I was able to pull myself away to grab my camera gear. I drove down the road with a friend, following the show to a new location. The lights weren’t as strong, their urge to show off dying down. But their magic hadn’t faded. I think it would be super fun to do long exposures for engagement or wedding photos underneath the Aurora Borealis! I’m looking forward to capturing more creative photos of the Northern Lights this year in Alaska.

Following Glaciers: A New Understanding of "Naturalist" | Wrangell St. Elias National Park Photography

Years ago I had hit a dead end. I continued to do the same work without growth. There were pockets of new opportunities in between the monotony, but I couldn’t give myself to those chances fully. I was stifled in parts of my life and it seemed to be seeping into every aspect of my life! I’d work in ways to push myself even in the monotony, but it wasn’t enough. I knew it was possible to grow exactly where I was and yet I really needed space from everything I knew to truly stretch in a new way. That’s when I decided it was time to really push myself. So, I applied to work as a media intern at Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve in Alaska for four months. There, I was able to fulfill my personal and career goals working in visual communications, documenting science and research, cultural events, and history in the nation’s largest park through photography and video!

Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve is home to the largest glacial system in the country. The glaciers within its borders are the headwaters for many of the river systems that flow through the park and towards Alaska’s seas. Along this journey from glacier to ocean, these rivers shape the land as well as the living communities, connecting people, animals, and plants. My work followed the flow of these watersheds, from interviewing scientists who study the evolving glaciers and their effects on the environment, to the people who rely on the rivers to provide nourishing salmon for their families, to the communities whose histories are forever intertwined with the ancient landforms. In a place where people and nature are so clearly tied together, it’s more obvious to me than ever before that conservation is not simply about land, but history, culture, and people as well.

After my four months there, it’s still my first media assignment that drove this message home with the most power. On a trip to the southern coast of the park, during a visit to a site that was historically significant to the Yakutat Tlingit, I met many new faces and heard many new stories. Oral histories passed around campfires from elders to youth to connect new generations to their ancestors and their personal identities. One elder, while reflecting on his personal reasons for providing this opportunity to the youth, told me of the time he learned his grandfather had been a guide for naturalist and “Father of the National Parks”, John Muir. He told me before learning about his grandfather he wasn’t very confident, but knowing who his grandfather was gave him pride. From then on he learned as much as he could about his grandfather and his culture, modeling his life after his ancestor’s philosophy. This conversation made me realize how important inclusivity is in conservation.

Our conversation also began my search for naturalists and conservationists outside of the white faces we’re already familiar with. John Muir, Aldo Leopold, even my beloved Jane Goodall. While providing lots of important ideas and thoughts to ponder, they still only provide a limited view.  There are so many more important perspectives we’re missing when we don’t broaden our ideas of nature writing. So, if you too are looking to see the landscapes you love through fresh eyes with new experiences different from your own, then feel free to use these suggestions as a jumping off point:

• The Colors of Nature: This collection explores the relationship between culture and place through many different authors from various backgrounds, so it’s a great place to discover more writers (like Jamaica Kincaid, who’s A Small Place always pulls me back, Robin Wall Kimmerer, or Lauret Savoy).

• Camille Dungy’s Black Nature: an anthology of nature writing by African American poets.

• Carolyn Finney’s Black Faces, White Spaces: an examination of the natural environment and how it is represented by black and white Americans.

 After all, we’re not just protecting land for future generations, but protecting history, culture, and identity as well. The more people and ideas included in conservation efforts, the more that can be achieved. Feel free to share some of your favorite “nature” writings with me in the comments as well!

Alaskan Wilderness | Esker Stream in Wrangell St. Elias National Park & Preserve

“Alaska is already more amazing than I could have imagined. I really don’t know what I expected. A lot of wilderness for sure, but the people I’ve met, the thoughts they’ve shared with me, the magic of nature dripping everywhere I turn, the traces of creation and destruction with each step, is all beyond the idea of wilderness I had prior to coming here. The wilderness I have found here is a deep connection and respect between all living things. The idea that we are a part of a larger and very necessary ecosystem is ever apparent. I can see where I’ve come from, the people and history that have led up to me, and my respect grows bigger and bigger with the more I unearth. Lives here are so deeply intertwined with the land that wilderness doesn’t just mean nature, but people as well. So, if we want to protect the land, then we want to protect the people and their identities too. These are all ideas I had before and yet somehow they seem so distant when I reflect back just a few months. These Alaskan identities have also taught me about mine. We are all wild things too, but for so long I was taught that I’m to be tame. Now here I am; a tame thing grown wild in a matter of weeks.”

Reading my own past writings I go through an array of emotion: embarrassment to inspiration. It can be a bit painful to poke through old thoughts, especially my handwritten ones. They tend to be more free flowing attempts to wan poetically and unapologetically.  A version of me that can be hard to keep up with sometimes, but probably the part of me I owe for all my goals and aspirations and the motivation to live them into reality! I thought I might share this piece edited, but I decided that anything other than my original thoughts wouldn’t paint the lovely picture that once I can get pass the pure mortification of whimsical, past Ali, I can soak in and mull over the tidbits of wisdom.

When I came to Alaska, I already had an understanding of wilderness and our connection to it. These were ideas I read, thought, and wrote about often. If I had ever read a rambling such as the one above while I was back in Arizona I would have rolled my eyes. “You go to “The Last Frontier” and think the rest of us don’t understand these concepts? These are ideas that touch all of us!” And it’s true. The concept of nature, wilderness, and our connections to them are everywhere. Hiding in little pockets of our communities we wouldn’t even think to consider! I would have hated to think that the wilderness in Alaska was any more special than the wilderness people can find in the city. I still won’t say it is either. It is different though! There is a different type of special found in Alaskan wilderness than the special in places I visited back home. Not better in my mind, but definitely different. It’s this difference that allowed me to view things in a new light. 

A lot of people have a very specific definition of wilderness. Merriam-Webster defines wilderness as: “an area essentially undisturbed by human activity together with its naturally developed life community”.  In The Wilderness Act of 1964, our nation went even further to lay out the meaning of this word, which you can read here if you’d like. But most of us have our own personal meaning of wilderness. Proper definitions fall to the wayside when it comes to our intimate relationships with the world. At first, being surrounded by people who had what appeared to be a stricter version of wild meant frustrating to me. It seemed to leave out others who experienced the same kind of natural magic and inspiration in the outdoors simply because what they had access to was a smaller and different space. However, when I realized that people were included in this version of wilderness things began to click for me in a new way. The standard definition, and even our nation’s version of wilderness, doesn’t include people. We are the opposite of wilderness in these definitions! In Alaska though, it seemed many people saw that wilderness was reflected in them. This beautiful idea of humans being a part of the landscape stretched my idea of conservation. If we are to preserve the land, than we are to preserve people too. We have to care and tend to the various human communities we’re surrounded by. And not just the ones whose ties to the land we can clearly see.

The lovely truth is this: we all have ties to the land. Whether we choose to see and understand those ties or not, every person has a personal connection with the land. So many of us have deep, intimate relationships with the same land too, we all begin to overlap. Conservation is not simply about landscapes, but the other people who find a piece of themselves in those landscapes too. It’s not enough to care for the environment. We must also open up our ideas of wilderness and preservation to include those outside of our current grasp of the earth.

When I think about wilderness, I think about all the people connected to that idea as well. I remember that even though it means something different to us all, even different from the traditional definitions, all our experiences deserved to be heard and respected still. I realize that my idea of conservation isn’t just about preaching my thoughts and practices, but actually about listening to gain a better understanding of our communities. What does wilderness mean to you and how does it manifest in your life?

The Space Where Growth Happens | Road Trip from Arizona to Alaska

There are times in life I feel rather behind. My friends are with their life partners, buying homes, starting families, and moving up in their jobs. Then here I am living with a revolving door of roommates, my closest companion is my cat, and I somehow freelanced my way from Phoenix to Flagstaff, which was a completely unplanned move. It seemed to happen by chance when the world decided to align in the right places. Then I somehow landed in Alaska. The biggest thing I’m working on at all times is my confidence. I’m not worried about getting a house, finding the perfect job, meeting the right person to spend my life with. I just want to be self-assured and true to who I am and then watch how that manifests in the various aspects of my life, whether work or dating or friendships. However, when I stop and notice the contrast between my friends’ lives and mine, self doubt creeps in. I have to wonder if I’m actually behind everyone else… Should I have already found this confidence? Should I have moved on to more important things at this point? Would these things make my life feel more complete? Do I need to focus more on settling rather than an idea of self value?

In comparison to my friends, my life seems untidy. No part of it is arranged perfectly. I choose seasonal and inconsistent jobs that I’m passionate about over the option of stability. I’ve moved about once a year for the last several years because my needs change with the different seasons of my life. While the longest relationship I’ve had is a ten year one…  It’s with my cat. And I’m mostly certain that’s lasted so long because he doesn’t know where else to get food. Nothing in my life seems to fit into a category or align with a pre-planned path. I’m sort of floundering around between spaces seeing where I fit. For the most part it seems like I fit nowhere.

While it would be nice to ignore any comparison (I know, I know) it can be hard when your family and friends still ask when you’re getting a “real job” or when you’re going to start dating again because they’re excited for you to have kids. These questions really add pressure to “settle down” and live a certain kind of life. At times I find myself caving into this pressure and looking for more stability, whether in a job or housing. Whenever I do this though, I begin to feel very overwhelmed. Almost to the point where I want to just shut down. So I have to pause and rethink. What does being unsettled really mean?

There’s an idea that being unsettled means you lack stability. Anyone living an unsettled life is aimless, directionless, or without a purpose. However, living unsettled can actually represent ever changing ideas, openness, and the opportunity to still be decided. It means a work in progress! My life seems like floundering, but really it’s freedom. The wandering about, letting things come and go, creates extra room in my world. This is the space where growth happens.

Instead of meaningless meandering, I realize I’m actually allowing myself to have the option to figure everything out as I go, rather than trying to have my life pinned down and stable as soon as possible. This room lets me make very intentional and meaningful decisions. And I’ve really discovered a lot! I’ve learned what I care for in this world, where my passions lie, how I deserve to be treated, and how I want to treat others. It’s been so liberating to give myself the opportunity to change, whether my beliefs or interests or career. I’m not limited to one particular path. Instead I have the chance to expand in any direction I chose.

Over the past several years, I’ve let myself walk along many paths that often fork off into different directions. When I graduated film school, I could have stayed at my internship for another semester, or found an internship out in Los Angeles like a lot of my friends, but neither of these choices seemed right. I was proud of the skills I gained with my film degrees, but my heart felt compelled to do more with those talents than work on a set or in an editing house. I decided to register for a Bachelor’s in Non Profit Management and Leadership instead. While I did have a college advisor who repeatedly asked me why I didn’t just go get a marketing job, I felt there was more to be found while getting a second degree. There’s nothing like a group assignment to show you the parts of yourself you don’t love and teach you to stay calm, patient, and kind! During my time back at school, a classmate asked if I would be interested in a media job at a nonprofit summer camp. I was reminded how much I love working with youth and value working in the outdoors. From there an environmental education camp asked if I could come work with them to create their very own media department and this is where I discovered a passion for conservation and environmentalism. I learned how important it is to be a steward of the land and how much I cared about passing my passion on to students. It’s what led me to search for media positions in conservation and that search landed me in Alaska working with the National Park Service. I feel so much more fulfilled now that I ever did working a set or editing in a post house for 12 or more hours a day and who knows how long it would have taken me to find the things that bring me joy if I had felt the need to stay on a rigid path!

I hear a lot from others that they’re not sure they could handle the stress they assume comes with the instability in my life. I get that. Yet, it’s this unsettledness that allows for change and personal growth, which is the kind of stability I’m really looking for. I want my security to come from within me rather than any external force. The funny thing is (it’s actually not funny as a lot of my friends would point out, but I like this word… If you have any suggestions for new adjectives, please share) when I start to worry about getting settled there’s no space for confidence in my life. I start doing things untrue to myself. I feel disconnected and unable to honor the sincerest part of myself, so my confidence has no footing. It completely loses balance and falls so far below I can’t even see it! When I let myself remain unsettled that’s when something beautiful happens. Being unsettled allows me to be very intentional with my choices! I make meaningful decisions based on what’s most important to me and not necessarily what I think others will see as wrong or right.

I’ve spent the last year, grasping around for what feels “normal”, but it wasn’t until I accepted an offer to relocate across the country, in a new, unknown terrain, because it would offer me an experience I knew I really wanted, that I felt normal again. My life is untidy. I don’t know where I’ll be living in a few months and I have to part from friends for longer than I’d like. Yet, my life is full of so much meaning and growth. Friendships in far away corners of the world show me they’re built on deeper connections than just proximity. Uncertainty in living spaces let me see all the possibilities a little more clearly. I’m grateful for all the opportunities that come up in my unsettled life.

Liberty Falls Trail | BLM Hike

“That was the turn,” Noelle pointed to the right as I drove straight down the narrow, two-lane road in front of us. We were headed to Liberty Falls trail to squeeze in the shortest of backpacking trips. Just a few days prior our trio, Noelle, Brandon, and I, had realized we all were off on Tuesday and, out of a mutual desire to get out of Boxtown (our park housing) for any amount of time and into the wildness of Alaska, we decided the shortest length of backpacking would suffice, even one with a rather late start. So, on Monday evening after work, we packed up our bags, ate a quick dinner, and drove east towards Chitina.

Brandon genuinely loves nature.

Juniper!

Juniper!

Almost stumbling off the edge and being rescued by Noelle.

Great timing.

“Oh well, you can pull through the next campground and circle around,” Noelle finished her thought as our car drove further away from the missed turn. After a quick loop around to get us back in the right direction, we pulled up to a tiny dirt lot at the trailhead of Liberty Falls. We hopped out of the car, strapped on our packs, and headed towards the small path through the forest, our watches showing just a bit past 7:30pm. We hoped to stretch our legs as much as we could before our bodies grew sleepy.

Of course Noelle and I immediately noticed a welcome sign, complete with a trail log, and excitedly hurried over to write our names down. Brandon muttered a question about why there were so many trail logs in Alaska, but we couldn’t be bothered to slow down our enthusiasm for the few sheets of paper, scribbled on by so many different travellers who wished to share their thoughts. Somehow the two of us managed to get Brandon to write his zip code on the log, no matter how begrudgingly. With much consideration, Noelle and I decided it would be best to fill out the rest of the log at the end of our trip. We would have more information then anyways and the rushing sounds of water crashing down Liberty Falls were calling us to move closer!

At this point, a steady and consistent sprinkling of rain was softly patting down on top of our heads. Our rain jackets sheltered us from becoming too wet, but there wasn’t much that could protect me from the small beads of sweat forming on my body from all the uphill hiking! I could feel my clothes growing damper and cooler under the shell of my raincoat. Stepping up on to rocks and gnarled tree roots that had began to form stairs from all the human traffic coming in and out of the pathway, we climbed higher and higher through the woods. Stopping to catch our breath, we noticed Liberty Falls had become a small, distant line down below. We quietly appreciated its beauty while miming intense panting to one another in acknowledgment of how steep the walk was for all of us. Even in the distance, the crashing of the water could still be heard as we turned forward, heading off further down the trail.

The uphill climb leveled out onto a cliff and our conversations picked up, as the three of us found it easier to breath. Topics came and went faster than we could walk as we all piped up with our thoughts. John Muir, places we’ve been, names we wished we had, and our adventures in dating all passed through our discussion alongside lots of laughter. Eventually, where we would set up our campsite started to come into question. We really didn’t want to sleep on any rocks. The edge of the cliff we were on now didn’t seem too safe.  Yet, we had walked upon a stunning bluff view of a lake below and the Copper River to our right. Safety and comfort or a great view? The former seemed to take precedent (hmmmm…) and we trudged along in search of a suitable spot to sleep. The path curved away from the cliff, bringing us back down into the boreal forest, wet and awake from the rainfall. Making note of potential campsites, we followed the twists and turns through the trees until we noticed we had almost reached the lake we saw earlier from the cliff. There’s nothing like running out of options to force you into making a decision! We turned back around and picked the first fluffy moss bed we made note of on our hike.

Ready for some snacks and a beer, we quickly set up our tents. Noelle typically gets to share a tent with me on any camping trips and unfortunately for her I had never dried mine out from a past trip in Yakutat. Oops… She looked at me with some disappointment, but luckily we found a bandana and I dried up the bottom of the tent for our sleeping bags. Phew! The satisfaction of a job well done seemed more complete with the Alaskan Brewing Co. bottles we packed in. Yet, there was no bottle opener. An item you really don’t need when Noelle is around. She popped the caps off with a nearby rock and we found shelter under a spruce tree to relax. We laughed about whether or not bears would be intrigued by the remnants of beer on a bottle and stuffed our food and trash in our bear bin, which was safely tucked away at the feet of some trees many yards away from our tents. Then I promptly fell asleep! However, the bright midnight sun woke me up every few hours with the fear that it was already time to get up. Each time I’d look at my watch, smile, and snuggle back down into my sleeping bag with much satisfaction until around 9am. Late mornings have their place. We all packed up and headed back down the trail to the car.

Although we didn’t spot any wildlife, there’s still something equally as thrilling about watching drops of water catch on leaves, grow bigger, and roll off as they get too heavy. My heart still swells at the uproarious sound of moving water and the sight of distant trees, so small and miniscule like a toy town. The moisture in the air refreshes the plants, the soil, and from the echoes of all the chirping and singing overhead, I would guess the birds too. And even me. It doesn’t really matter the amount of time for my visit, immersing myself in nature always puts a new spin on things. It gently reminds me of my abilities, my dreams, and my control I have over my own life. So, no matter the length, I’ll always be up for a backpacking trip through the woods.