Eva Saulitis

“I died. The words pop out on the page. I died and the mountain remained. I died and the baby leaves on the birch trees broke through their waxy casks in what was once my yard. I died and the nettles pushed up through layers of fallen birch leaves. I died and one day a wind came and the leaves blizzarded down. And the snow came, and the snow went. I died and you died and the ever-moving earth continued on and on. We died and the earth continued and changed. And so – living, dying, dead, reborn in other forms – did we. There is a future. It is beyond us, like that oval of blue behind layers of mountains, beyond weather. It is not ours to have or to hold. There is a future, and it is not us. It is the mountain. It is the earth.”
― Eva Saulitis, Becoming Earth

“The Haida name for orca, keet, means “supernatural being.” Some people call them killer, some orca, but in essence both names lead to the same place.”
― Eva Saulitis, Into Great Silence: A Memoir of Discovery and Loss among Vanishing Orcas