AT THE FALLS, the Brooks River spills into itself—an endless splitting apart and coming together as the water hits the rocks. It’s where the salmon jump against the current as they make their way upstream to spawn. Even though they’ve spent their lives in the ocean, their bodies remember the river. Brown bears gather here to fish. Watching them stomp through the water makes me think I am being fooled, as if other animals have folded themselves into a bear costume.
I have… Orion Magazine | The Opposite of Hunger is Mercy