It took months to plan a “mini” family vacation to Crescent Lake, reserving a cabin for two nights by the water. For Alaskans, engaging in hiking and camping is quite typical; it’s a way of life. As for me, originally from North Carolina, I was still acclimating to these activities, even after 17 years of living in Alaska. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate the outdoors—I did enjoy hiking—but camping was an entirely different matter.
Since becoming a parent, I’ve found myself engaging in activities solely for my children’s enjoyment, such as spending hours playing and sledding in the snow—a pastime they adore, while I merely endure the cold. Camping was one of those experiences, although I didn’t express it to them.
For our hiking adventure, we needed gear like backpacks for myself and each of my children. Luckily, their father was skilled at gathering the necessary supplies. I knew we had to pack all our food, clothes, toiletries, and any entertainment, such as cards or dice, for the next three days; and I was mindful that we had to take out everything we brought in. The hike was said to be incredibly beautiful, and I planned to photograph as many of those magnificent views as possible, so I included my camera in our gear.
Their father, who had grown up in Alaska, was eager to teach them through this adventure. The journey to the cabin was a six-mile hike, and everyone pitched in to carry the supplies needed for the upcoming three days. An aspect of the children’s learning experience involved carrying a loaded backpack during the extended hike. Naturally, their dad and I carried the heavier packs, but it was intriguing to see how they would manage.
I recall a particular moment when we were about a mile in, certainly enough distance to break a sweat and repeatedly hear the question, “Can we stop and rest?” Their father led the way, and I followed at the end, with the children sandwiched in the middle. We weren’t clustered together; there was a gap of about 40 to 50 feet separating the front and back of our group. As I crested the hill, a breeze washed over me, lingering for a few moments. I paused to savor the experience. Standing at the top, I closed my eyes and embraced the silence for several minutes. Upon opening my eyes, I saw my family further along the trail. Surrounding me, the tall grass swayed, and in the distance, a mountain stood against the sunlit sky, casting stunning shadows. I made a decision to commit that moment to memory. I aimed to recall it with precision, and even now, I am able to do so.
The three days passed smoothly, filled with laughter. Each morning, I rose before my family to seek out the “prize-winning” photo. I found it; it’s the first one at the top. It has become my ultimate favorite nature photograph. Although I didn’t realize its significance at the time, I did recognize it as an excellent photo opportunity. However, it has not won any prizes, nor have I received any monetary gain from that photograph. Yet, when I gaze upon it, I perceive not just the sheer beauty of the Alaskan landscape, but also the treasured recollections of times past.
As always, I’m eager to hear about a cherished memory you have. Feel free to share it in the comments below or reach out to me.
Through the LENS: a perspective of heart... 
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