The gently rolling, almost hypnotic motion of incoming waves, even within the boundaries of a quiet (for now) bay, eases my mind and soothes my soul.
It’s morning on Resurrection Bay in Seward, Alaska. Taking Ronni for a morning walk in this setting is anything but a chore.


To my left, towards the harbor end of the bay, the rising sun silvers the surface of the water, highlighting a small fishing vessel.
To my right is the wide, still fog enveloped mouth of the bay, hiding the mysteries and wonders of the spectacular Kenai Fjords and Pacific Ocean beyond.
I’ve yet to take one of the Marine & Wildlife boat tours – this year doesn’t seem like the best time – but I watch longingly as boat after boat head out to sea for half-day or full-day excursions. Maybe next year.
Listening to the soft wash of wavelets caressing the shore, with the occasional set of robust, white-crested rollers splashing against the rocks due to the wake of passing boats, is relaxing beyond measure.
Add days when sunshine glints off the always moving water like diamonds or a sudden squall sheets across the great expanse like a curtain, leaving rainbows in its wake. The mood of the ocean, even this small bit of ocean, is ever-changing.
Just minutes ago, I watched a good-sized silvery fish break the surface not far from shore, flopping wildly … followed almost immediately by the sleek body of a pursuing sea lion. Wow!
Earlier today, I followed the antics of a pair of sea otters as they drifted with the incoming tide, periodically diving beneath the surface to hunt or play.
I could sit here all day, mesmerized by the sea, but Miss Rhonda is angling for yet another walk, so I guess I’ll finish this up later.




I seem to spend most of my time focused on the water, but the mountains on the near side of the bay are equally enchanting in their own way.
The waterfront campground is situated between the bay and the small town of Seward, with more of the massive Kenai Mountain range looming behind the town.







The sun is setting on my last full day in Seward, Alaska, and with it I am starting to wind down my last “planned” trip of the summer 2020 season (“planned” being a relative term 😉).
I think, more than anything, I’m grateful to have the means to get out and travel safely in what is otherwise a pretty constrictive time.
I have very little contact with other campers, and always at a distance. And yet, in a campground setting, there is a sense of community. I’m going to miss that when the time comes (and it’s going to come way too soon!) to winterize “Roada” and put her to bed for the winter.
Then again, I still have to pack up tomorrow and drive home … it looks like it’s going to be a pretty day for a drive!