dj.tigersprout's photoblog
the Bridge on Main Street, Anaktuvuk, Alaska
Posted by dj.tigersprout (New York City, United States) on 4 August 2008 in Lifestyle & Culture and Portfolio.
i almost found it odd, that such a small northern town such as this had a bridge separating north from south. it was certainly a handsome bridge, constructed out of sturdy wood and beautiful steel, and i reveled some in its construction -- it was probably the coolest structure i had seen in these parts anyway. i lingered for a while on the southern portion long enough to notice that my footprints were the only footprints visible... there were plenty of snowmobile marks of course... i figured that they drove straight down the middle, leaving the slightly elevated sides for bicyclers and walkers -- at least in months warm enough for those methods of transportation. however, i didn't see any active snowmobiles this at this end of town -- in fact i didn't see any stirring of life whatsoever, minus the small chimneys that smoked quietly. the familiar barking of the dog was there in the distance, of course, and that was enough.
time here was so still -- the light, ever non changing. it was almost as if time itself slowed to a frozen crawl... a watch was certainly needed -- there were no other visual clues as to the time of day. of course i am sure the locals could feel the daily passing of time with their sharpened winter senses -- noting slight shades of difference as the winter day wore on. i crossed the bridge, back and forth a few times, peering curiously over the edges at the small frozen creek below. i naturally had wanted to walk below the bridge, my senses telling me that it had to be frozen in these sorts of temperatures... still, i didn't dare -- there were many reasons why the river could still be unfrozen as i had learned in Fairbanks... and as there was simply no one about, it wouldn't have been wise had i gotten stuck or fallen through -- what a mess that could have been!
instead i busied myself about the upper solid banks taking photos and attempting to recall memories of this place -- as if i had always lived here, or had lived here some time before and had just returned. it was an interesting experiment and didn't really work -- but it did take me out of the foreign traveler state of mind for a few moments: long enough to imagine life up here in the frozen tundra. these natives had always lived here -- before modern warmth and technology, certainly they would have collective memories of the cold before cement buildings, automobiles, planes... before central heating, government officials and oil pipelines... before north face jackets and woolen socks. so i tried to imagine what some of those memories might feel like -- and tried to superimpose them over my experiences... would they fit? could they fit? could i live up here? in a state of such remoteness? could such an idea feel normal? what would i do? would i read and paint? take photographs? go on hunts for caribou? what wouldn't i do? and what would i miss from the urban centers of the lower 48 states?
i eventually decided that i could survive the year -- the mild, easy summer and the frigid winter -- in search of the tenacity of the human spirit... in search of the reasons humanity originally inhabited almost every possible climate this planet had to offer. i decided 'yes', because we could -- because humans had learned to adapt so marvelously well and because we did so better than all other species... it was simply mind over matter -- and because we all wanted to find that place, that space we could call our own. in my experience, we all eventually manifest a place we feel we personally belong, a place for ourselves and for those who are like-minded. some place we can live our lives in relative peace and raise our progeny the way we see fit. so was Anaktuvak then really so different? so extraordinary? so unthinkable? perched at the northern edge of the bridge and with only distant thoughts of my current urban life, i decided that: no, it certainly wasn't.
all work protected by Creative Commons
Canon EOS REBEL XT
1/160 second
F/7.1
ISO 1600
18 mm