The Corkline

Reflecting on the Winter Solstice, the darkest day of the year. Here in Cordova, that has come to mean days of rain, at least this year. We think of this season as one for drawing in, for family, for fires in the woodstove, and a hot bowl of salmon chowder that we know will take the chill out of our bones.

In a few short months the light will return, and with the light, the salmon that breathes life into our sleepy little town by the sea. If we close our eyes, we can feel the warmth of the sun beating down as the salty waves splash over our bow. We pick carefully by hand, each fish from the web in front of us, and imagine the joy it will bring to the family whose table it finds. We take pride in bringing food to the world, feeding other families and feeding our own. It is this image – no, this feeling – that keeps us coming back to the ocean every summer, heeding the call of her siren song.

In the darkest of days, we still remember how alive we feel in the spring when the salmon return. The seasonality of our life as fishermen, and how our days are dictated by the ever-changing tides and weather, reminds us of our connection to the earth and sea.