July is coming to an end, Alaska Bay, 58 degrees north latitude. Great Whale Island, Kingdom Port, Divine Great Whale Port.
In the distance, the layered mountains are covered with lush coniferous forests, where eagles soar above the peaks. Streams meander at the mountain's base, and pink shrubs and yellow-blue wildflowers reflect each other, bathing in eighteen hours of daylight during the continuous days, life flourishing everywhere.
The vitality brought by the streams extends nearby, suddenly transforming long meadows into cultivated potato fields. In those over a thousand mu of potato fields, hundreds of tribespeople are busy weeding among the potato seedlings that stand several palms high. After two months of planting, green buds have appeared on the potato seedlings, soon to blossom into pink-white flowers. Beneath the summer's warm fields, the roots of the potatoes are growing stronger, nurturing the upcoming autumn harvest, preparing for the most precious winter provisions.
