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Hunting Grounds

As my wife and I exit the small plane, we are surprised to see that a familiar friend has beaten us here, just north of the Arctic Circle. I begin waving my hands, trying to chase away the mosquitoes circling my head.

Granted, the annoying insects had a head start of a hundred million years or more. Still, their point of origin was much further south than ours, somewhere in the equatorial tropics. The undeveloped marshlands throughout Alaska must provide a satisfying home away from their ancestral home.

This far north, the guide tells us, in a land devoid of bumblebees and butterflies, the mosquito is an important pollinator. He eyes the way my right hand is poised with suspicion.

blood drive—
my boss’s boss
grabs the last cookies

About the Author

Mark Forrester has taught English for more than 30 years at the University of Maryland, where his awards include recognition for his social justice and antiracist teaching. His chapbooks The World Disappears (2021) and Dreamer’s Moon (2024) were published by Buddha Baby Press. He is a high school dropout, a former chef, and a husband, father, and grandfather.


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