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Wildlife, especially in summer, can conveniently be observed right in and around the busy towns of Southeast Alaska. A stroll along the waterfront can offer a great place to view and photograph those commanding bald eagles as they fish or perch on an offshore piling.

Noisy, young ravens may be seen foraging in the low-tide seaweed, screaming in turn as they fly off. Humpbacks, orcas and big-eyed harbor seals often grace the channel while assorted diaphanous jellyfish float past the colorful collection of sea anemones that cling to the pier.

In my quest for wild neighbors, I find myself hiking from town along the saltwater where a graceful heron stares intently at its underwater feet, then instantly, a small fish is flapping in its bill. A swift, sternly vocalizing kingfisher takes off from a nearby tree, heading inland.

Untamed cries of loons carry across the bay. A red-bellied sapsucker inspects a tree trunk as eagles play on the updrafts far above it. I turn away from the water and ascend a hill, passing a place where a newborn fawn and doe had returned my stare a few weeks ago.

Further along I pause to watch numerous bumblebees fuss about in the elegant, white thimbleberry flowers. It was right here at dusk one evening that I met a cute, friendly mouse. He had run out from the side of the road and right into a small rock from which he kind of bounced off and changed direction like a wind-up toy. Eventually he headed straight to me and stopped at my feet, staring up with his big ears.

We considered each other for a bit. I lifted one foot and gently put it back down. That mouse jumped straight up about five inches, spun around and ran as fast as his little mouse feet would go. I was sorry to alarm him but it had become a standoff and I wanted to continue on my way.

I walk downhill now toward the creek and surrounding meadows, rounding a corner to find a black bear walking up the road toward me - a surprising state of affairs.

I stop immediately and snap a photograph since bears often make a quick exit, but this one continues on at first, then stops and seems to sense my presence. Like the mouse, we stare at each other. I know what he is but it's anybody's guess what he thinks I am.

It's bad enough that I'm hiking around in bear country (but within city limits) by myself so I resist the temptation to approach closer for a better photograph, reminding myself that a bear is nothing to take lightly - even though they always seem to be the ones running away.

A couple more photos and the bear moves slowly off the road through the tall grass and into the forest. Even then, I wait a few minutes before heading on down past there.

A bit further along I check out a little pond that is actually a wide spot in the ditch along the road where I'd discovered rough-skinned newts earlier. These poisonous salamanders are easy to see in spring when adults converge there from the woods. Right now I only see one here and there among the horsetails.

By now I'm back around houses and although deer are common backyard visitors all over town, I see nothing stranger than simple humans for the remainder of my hike. It's easy to see that our wild friends are all around and fascinating to observe. Don't forget to bring a camera!

Carla Petersen is a remote-living freelance artist and writer on Prince of Wales Island. She can be reached at whalepassoriginals@gmail.com.