Fit

The view this morning from my temporary apartment's deck.

 

Juneau is like a foreign country. I feel like an alien at the KTOO office building on Egan Drive even though, a few years ago, I once spent two weeks working there and actually many of the faces are familiar. It felt weird to eat lunch out and not recognize people. It’s strange to walk along a highway with traffic lights and so many cars speeding past me. Who’s inside all those cars and where are they going? In so many ways, being here feels temporary, like I’m just on job training and I’ll get to return home. Except, Juneau is home.

Naturally, I’ve always equated being in Alaska with being in Wrangell. Even though I know the state is huge and I love exploring it and traveling around, to me, Wrangell is Alaska. I used to think there was no point to live in the state if I couldn’t be there. But here I am (soon to be – here we are).

I miss KSTK and its office of just four, only four. I miss recognizing almost everyone who walks into a restaurant that I’m eating at. I miss living in a town with no traffic lights, no cars speeding past me, and no questioning thoughts of where people were off to; in Wrangell, there just weren’t that many places to go. I miss knowing how things work. I miss knowing what is going on. I miss knowing my place, where I belonged, because in a small town like Wrangell, you just know it; you know where you fit in.