Visions of Wilderness

By Sherry Preston

I came to Alaska in 1951, on one of the last steamships to travel from Seattle to ports along the coast. I spent twelve years living near a native village and formed a lifelong bond with the people there. They taught me how to hunt, fish, and gather wild vegetables and medicines; I developed a deep love and respect for all the wildlife here. That was strengthened by my first pet, a baby seal that we raised for a year and released once it could live on its own. Many years later, I decided to write about the memories and adventures I had, in the hope that I can bring to life the sights and experiences for others, and perhaps pass on the love I have for this land.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453507926

Sherry Preston

I came to Alaska in 1951, on one of the last steamships to travel from Seattle to ports along the coast. I spent twelve years living near a native village and formed a lifelong bond with the people there. They taught me how to hunt, fish, and gather wild vegetables and medicines; I developed a deep love and respect for all the wildlife here. That was strengthened by my first pet, a baby seal that we raised for a year and released once it could live on its own. Many years later, I decided to write about the memories and adventures I had, in the hope that I can bring to life the sights and experiences for others, and perhaps pass on the love I have for this land.

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Copyright © 2010 by Sherry Preston.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Contents

WORD WEAVER

BEAUTY

SUNSET

MIDNIGHT WALK

SEASON’S CHANGE

CONCERT

CONTENTMENT

PACIFIC UNIVERSE

EYES OF THE EAGLE

GRATITUDE

SHARING

MERCY

THE GIFT

A WINTER’S GIFT

TRADITION

CRY FROM THE PAST

HOME

CARING

WORD WEAVER

There comes a time when I must be still,

when all the books are read.

It’s then I take up paper and pen

to write down the thoughts in my head.

It is not so much a talent

as just a longing to be heard.

Speech will usually fade