The Book of Creatures
There weren’t always dragons in the valley. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything. 14 year old me took issue with that. Why couldn’t there be dragons here? Why couldn’t there be unicorns and fairies and all sorts of mythical creatures living in this emerald wasteland of crisp mountain air, snow covered slopes, and did I mention the never-setting midnight sun? I was starved for stimulation. Nothing cool ever happened in Alaska. Every year was the same—winter all year, then a brief reprieve of summer, then back to the snow. I mean yeah if you’re into the outdoors and stuff, this place is pretty awesome—but when you’re bullied mercilessly for being a little plump, you tend to turn inward— like into a good book. For us kids seeking a thrill or two on a Friday night, the most exciting thing you might find is a black bear rifling through your trash or witnessing the chronically drunk neighbor getting kicked out of the tavern. But I digress—I’m sure you’d rather hear about the day this valley became the most interesting place on earth.
