Long may the ‘Lord of the Summer’ reign in the Valley

He is finally here. The Lord of the Summer has arrived. He and the Prince of Breakup share a knowing wink and nod. The Prince jumps aside with a bow and flourish to let his master stride forth. The lord pauses for moment and looks over to the mountains where the Queen of Winter glowers. Her cold grasp there is rapidly fading as she hangs on with a fierce stubbornness born of the polar ice and subzero freeze.

He gives her a respectful bow and smiles. His cobalt-blue eyes reflect the clear skies. He radiates the warmth of the summer sun, now high in the sky. She only glares with eyes of ice-cold grey and retreats back. Back to her realm of the deep polar cold of the mountains and the ice pack. She vows to return, with a vengeance. Her reign here is now thankfully over.

He turns away and waves a green-gloved hand. The land responds. The trees, brush and ground cover explode in fury of green. The buds now bloom. The leaves bring forth blossom. Barren branches fill with fresh green leaves with each new day. From under his earthen tan boots, the grasses and other ground cover, thrust up from under the dead brown leftovers of the fall and winter with stunning speed. The days are very long now. The season is frightfully short. All life here knows this.

The animals respond as well. Babies are being born everywhere. Moose cows give birth to calves. Bears are now awake and stumble down the mountainsides. Females with their cubs. Males alone and on the make. Both are on a mission to feed. Eat to build up fat for the six-month sleep that awaits them all at the end of the all to brief season. Migrant birds arrive in flocks of thousands to breed. Whales arrive with their young in tow to feast on the abundant krill and fish in the cold waters off the coastline. Salmon return from the sea to make their epic journey to breed and then perish in the rivers and streams of their birth. Everything is alive with energy and new life.

People are no different from the life exploding around them. The locals come out and go forth on trips to hunt, fish and hike. ATVs and motorcycles replace the snowmachines on the trails. Farmers and garden lovers plant their crops and flowers. Windows once shut to keep the winter out and the heat in are opened to the fresh air and breezes only warm weather brings. The best being just after a warm spring rain. Air so fresh one can taste it. So moist one can almost drink it in with each deep breath.

And the strangest humans of all — tourists — arrive in droves by ship, car, RV and airplane. They flood the region in vast numbers to see and experience the wonders of Alaska. From the coast and islands to vastness of Denali and beyond. Their arrival is a blessing and a curse all rolled into one. Their money a blessing. Their ignorance of the land and the people can be a curse at times. Armed with cameras, speaking a wide variety of languages from all over the globe, they all share the dream of experiencing all that is Alaska. Their sense of fashion comes under question at times, cargo shorts, floppy hats and big T-shirts the rage among them. And they tend to ask the silliest questions, which brings a great deal of amusement to the locals.

Sometimes the Winter Queen throws a curve ball of very cold Arctic air to collide with the warm air. The result is frankly chaos. Thunderstorms burst above the land. Lightning strikes the trees and dry brush. Which gives birth to the one thing feared by all. Wild fire.

Such fires can rage across vast sections of the land. Threatening all in their path. Smoke blanks out even the sun for miles. All rightfully fear this nightmare. It is just a part of the wildness that makes this land special. Wild weather from wind to thunderstorm can rise up with little to no warning. It can bring both life and death. It is untamed, impressively wild yet very much part and parcel to the life of the land.

The Lord of the Summer is undaunted by all this. His job is to bring forth all the life that has slumbered under the Queen’s harsh rule. His time here is very short and must give way to Grand Maiden of the Autumn and her palette of fall color. The eternal cycle goes on.

Wasilla resident Daniel D. Grota retired from the U.S. Army after more than 21 years of service.