I look out at the glacier that pours down and around Denali peak and realize I am the only human for miles. The wind blows strong here with nothing in the tundra to stop it. The wilderness does not tolerate human folly. Glaciers move slowly and carve the earth into ribbons without permission. All voices are silenced. I walk past two bull moose horns locked in battle for all eternity. A bull moose grazes on willow and disappears into the brush. A caribou stand out with a massive rack as a symbol of all that is still wild here. Sow Grizzly crosses in the distance with her spring cubs tumbling behind. Fireweed is past its bloom announcing an early winter. Blueberries cover the ground ready for harvest by the hungry bear. Squirrels and marmots gather cones for their winter larder. A caribou kill feeds the family of wolves that make their den over the ridge. Nothing is wasted. Soon the Grizzly will make her way into the den with her cubs, safe from the cold, darkness and humans.