photos and story © 2001 Doug Plummer
no use without authorization
On a low, stony island are a herd of walrus. We make landfall on a pebble beach. There is no vegetation. The pebbles are granite, quartz, basalt—a colorful kaleidoscope. On each rock is a constellation of lichens, black ones, orange ones, green ones. The rocks have been sitting here for a very long time. A Red Phalarope sits on a nest a few yards from our landing. Arctic Terns dive bomb us when we move forward. These are less habituated to people than the ones in town, their attacks are more violent. I am hit on the head repeatedly by their feet
