![The media file [Christian] is by CallahanFreet.](/artists/christian/christian_head_hu5cef231d8f4180b7a037182f38f41a4e_11594_800x0_resize_q82_h1_box_2.webp)
When you realize nothing is lacking, the whole world belongs to you.”
When a few years ago during the fall I made an image of this mountain, there was no way for me to know we would ever climb it in winter to witness an icy view from the perspective. At the time we didn’t even know people regularly climbed here in the cold, and snowy mountain tops seemed like the domain of those braver than us.
![The media file [Re-Visiting] is by CallahanFreet.](/works/52weeks/2022/1210/20221210_hu1ae50a0f9cada67bf743c1b72a210de1_303228_800x0_resize_q82_h1_box_2.webp)
When thinking about our research before moving to Alaska, I'm still confused about the accounts of light-induced depression and difficulty adapting to the winter here. I wonder if anyone who believes that stuff actually tries to live outside of the second-hand stories, and instead dwell within the environment.
Standing here triggers many thoughts. Besides awe of this magnificent eyefull, I think of how much we have changed since that first hike into these mountains that now seem so tame. What drove us there in the first place? and upon what route did we grow into the present?
My past self might have tried using that logic to lay a course for the future. After all, construction is considered noble, even when applied to personalities. But that is not my life. Instead I’d rather let those memories flow through me, let them go, and remain surprised as we meet an unplanned future.