MY ALASKA Runners weave across the water as an airplane comes to land from above the snow-capped mountains to the quiet lake-top, and then it's skidding to a stop. People are fishing upstream, wading in the river. Through clumped trees shines a bright sunbeam throwing gems on the surface of the rushing water. By the parking lot is a tree; bald eagles perch in its limbs. Alaska is untamed, free... Night comes. Over shining snow aurora dance in the sky, far above the town below.