Learning As I Go: The erosion of words

Christy Bass Adams Guest Columnist The cliff of the iconic Boneyard, or Palisades, on the Yukon River towered to one side of our boat. Every few minutes a puff of dust began near the top and built into a rolling cloud. Dirt, chunks of rock and debris broke off and plummeted down the high ridge into the river. Deep crevices, shallow cracks, large caverns and layers of permafrost sparkling in the summer sun. We floated to the riverbank, examining a curved bone-like object protruding from the