Doris Lynch
Tundra Walking
parka ruff your air and mine warmed before breathing
In February’s ivory brilliance, I stride toward the DeLong Mountains. Too far to reach by foot, they become beacons. Deep inside my parka, carried abu the way the Inupiat villagers taught me, Kristen snuggles. My toddler daughter wears only pants, socks, sweater, and a hat—no coat or leggings needed; my parka and body heat keep her warm at forty below.
Crossing Kivalina’s frozen lagoon, we enter a deep silence. The most expansive one I have ever known. A half mile further, we discover sound again, the tinkling of a fast-moving creek. From the pressure of my daughter’s feet against my back, I recognize that she’s awake and listening too. Black waterfalls race over boulders angling ice. The creek cascades downstream so fast that not even forty below cold can freeze it.
I head toward a stand of five-foot willows. Whooshing wind, a snow ptarmigan thrusts into air. Kristen and I both jump, she inside my coat, I on top of the hard-packed snow.
shimmering lagoon tracks of snowmobiles mukluk prints
Notes:
abu: the method of carrying a baby on your back inside a parka used in the northern coastal villages of Alaska. The parka is cinched tightly with a belt or embroidered sash.
Inupiat: the name of the native people of coastal Alaska from Kotzebue north.
mukluks: ultra-warm boots made from caribou fur.
About the Author
Celebrating her first decade writing haibun, Doris Lynch has recent work in Haibun Today, cho, Frogpond, Modern Haiku, and FemkuMag. She also writes in longer forms.