Copper River Record  January 2015
By Janelle Eklund
​Before sun showed its face on a winter morning, light from the orb bathed the sky announcing its arrival on pink hued slivers of clouds hanging out on the horizon. The closer it came to rising the more intense the colors. The light arced across the pale blue sky and settled on steel blue clouds on the opposite horizon, marrying pink with steel blue. As I walked down the Old Edgerton this spectacular phenomenon made its entrance in silence. No drum rolls, no dynamic symphony with flutes and violins and harps. But wait, there was an awakening of sounds that seemed to welcome the birth of a new and glorious day. Now and then the slowly rising sun seemed to be greeted by chickadees with their occasional 'chickadee-dee-dee' as they sat on frost laden aspen branch, a distant raven giving a single 'caw', and chatter from squirrel observing from frosty spruce tree. In between the greetings I stopped to listen to see what else I could hear. In the very far distance a smooth rushing sound laid below the silence. My imagination saw and heard the mighty Copper River on its journey to the sea, carrying chunks of its own frozen self rolling and tumbling with its perpetual current.
 
As I read, listen, and observe, more sounds resound from some of the most enlightening places - like plants. While visiting my sisters in Oregon last July an elder told us she could hear the plants talking. She was out walking past hop fields when she stopped to listen and could hear water being taken up by the long stems of the plants. She said they were having quite the conversation with all the gurgling going on throughout the big field. After we heard the story my sister and I were walking by a field of wheat. The very dry looking wheat stood stark still in the hot sunny windless day. We stopped to listen and to our surprise the wheat was crackling and popping as it continued to dry under the warmth of the sun.
 
In Robin Wall Kimmerer's book, Braiding Sweetgrass, she says: "I could spend a whole day listening. And a whole night. And in the morning, without my hearing it, there might be a mushroom that was not there the night before, creamy white, pushed up from the pine needle duff, out of darkness to light, still glistening with the fluid of its passage. Listening in wild places, we are audience to conversations in a language not our own." Last summer's rains urged many mushrooms to explode from the ground, as I saw new ones each day on my walk. In the night I missed the silence of their awakening.
 
Plants make sounds as they grow and change into their different stages."But (as Robin Wall Kimmerer says) plants speak in a tongue that every breathing thing can understand. Plants teach in a universal language: food." Listening to the sounds plants impart is the rushing sound of their need for a healthy home critical for their survival, which we depend on. Think about it. No matter where we are we are surrounded by plants. We eat them, we use them for medicine, we build homes with them, we use them for heat, and they give us inspiration. We would not be here without them. If we give them thanks and respect their health, they will keep reciprocating by giving us life.
 
From my light to yours-

Copper River Record  January 2015
By Janelle Eklund
​It is January 1, 2015. A few days ago a semi-warm wind blew in carried by its own currents from warmer regions releasing thick globs of snow from heavily laden trees. Branches that once lay over passageways popped up straight as if suddenly awakening from a long sleep. Tree snow tracks made big indents around their feet. White-winged crossbills, grosbeaks and chickadees left behind spruce cone tidbits from daily feasts in the tops of spruce trees. The spruce trees are offering an abundance of cones this year and the birds are taking advantage of the bounty. I have seen more birds this year than I have in a fair amount of years. The crumbs from their pickings are scattered on top of the snow like fallen leaves of autumn.
 
As I reflect on the bounty the trees are giving I am grateful for the bounty of richness we have seen in Wrangell Institute for Science and Environment. In 1999 the idea of WISE was just being born. I can't believe that was fifteen years ago - how time flies! The knowledge cones on the WISE tree have multiplied over the years and many participants have flocked to the programs and joined in the feast of knowledge.
 
Here at WISE we are grateful for all those who are making the feast bigger and better each year: the participants, sponsors, donors, partners, volunteers, and staff. Each WISE executive director and other staff have contributed golden cones from their stash of knowledge; each sponsor and donor has provided the support to keep the feast going; each partner has brought a main dish of knowledge and support; each volunteer has given a heart of help and preparation; and each participant has absorbed the feast of knowledge to carry it forward.
 
In 2014 the WISE tree made leaps and bounds in feeding its mission. Executive Director, Robin Mayo Underwood completed the Foraker Certificate in Non-Profit Management. This big cone of knowledge gave her the tools to grow and nurture the organization. Donations and sponsorships increased, correlating directly to upgraded and new programs and partner participation. For a sneak preview from the annual report, total revenue for the year was $121,164 with expenses at $114,530. The Bruce James memorial scholarship fund brought in $1,400. The annual report summarizes the programs, other events and projects, new programs, capacity building, financial report, funders, and what to look forward to in 2015. View it online at www.wise-edu.org or if you would like a copy call the office at 822-3575. If you haven't received the new 'classy newsletter' you can also view it online or call for a copy.
 
WISE has two seats open on the Board of Directors. We are recruiting for nominations. If you are interested in throwing your nomination into the hat and joining our mission of providing science and environmental education please call the office for more information.
 
Thanks to all who nourish the WISE tree of life where the wise 'ol owl makes its home and the cones of knowledge keep on growing. All the best for the new year.
 
From my light to yours-