A lot of my friends are complaining about the temperatures and snowfall of winter, and for the first time in my life, I have to say I'm envious. "What!", you say, "Envious of inches if not feet of snow! Are you crazy!" Perhaps I am. I should be thrilled that it's 56F here in SC and I'm still sleeping with the windows open at night! But I'm not. I'm missing Alaska terribly.
This photo was taken shortly after our family moved to Alaska in 2006. It's the view from the outside of our first apartment. Our living room window is just under the porch light, and it was about 11am (not pm) at the time of this photo. That's about as light as it gets in the winter. We had gotten something like three feet of snow within a twelve hour period, and that's my son behind my crouching husband in the picture. They were installing another heater on our car so that the block wouldn't freeze.
Alaska is like living in another world. I know that most people who go there to visit, go in summer and for good reason. But you haven't really seen Alaska until you've spent a winter there.
It's not just the snowfall, or even the temperature that makes it unique. It's the spirit of the land. Yes, I said spirit. Alaska is pure. Maybe it's because it's so far from the equator, but the light is different there. I'm not just talking about the amount of light, I'm talking about the light itself. To me, it seems unfiltered. Colors are more vibrant, and the sky contains hues belonging to another world.
Folks who visit Alaska in the summer don't get to see much change in the sky, after all it's the land of the mid-night sun. But in winter, you'll see grey, blue, green, yellow, purple, red, orange, and white all in the same day, and not just from sunrise or sunset -which by the way, is almost non-existant in winter and in peak times of summer because the sun just kind of moves in a circle around the horizon. What I mean is the moisture, the humidity, catches the light and reflects it like rainbow prisms.
Things sound and smell different in Alaska too. I grew up on the East Coast, and believe me when I tell you, that you know when you're getting close to the ocean or the bay! They have a distinct odor, like rotting vegetation or sulfur. But Alaska's biggest city- Anchorage-is nestled in the arms of the Cook Inlet and I never once smelled the water there! Even when our family traveled down to Homer, Seward, or Valdez, which are right on the open ocean, we didn't smell the water like one can here. Someone told me it's because the air is heavier, but I don't know how much truth there is to that.
Sounds are crisper in Alaska, and in winter you would swear that the train whistle you just heard means the train is about to pass you. In truth, the train is still miles away. Evidentually, this too is due to the density of the air. I'm no scientist so I'll accept that. If the temperature drops rapidly, any sap left in the trees will freeze, and the sound that it makes when it splits the wood is like gunfire. When my husband and I moved up to Fairbanks (in the interior of the state), we lived on the edge of the forest. I often thought that there were hunters in our backyard when in fact it was just the sound of the trees bursting open.
Anyway, in case you haven't noticed, I'm reminiscing. I'm missing the moose, the fox, the eagles, and the bears. I'm missing having to pile on layer upon layer of clothing, just to go out and check the mail. I'm missing having to put ice grips on the bottom of my shoes, so I don't break my neck when I go out to check the mail! I'm missing the cold that freezes your lungs and makes you feel like you swallowed razor blades, because the ice particles in the air are stabbing your insides. I miss the vehicle tires being flat when you go out in the morning, because the air has settled within them and they need time to warm up and adjust to the outside temperature which is colder than cold! I miss having to thaw out our door with the hair dryer just to unfreeze the lock, so that I can get out of the house. Okay, I'm crazy! But I miss all of that. And although I know that this place is better for my old bones, part of my heart will always be in that frozen tundra of another world-Alaska!
So friends, complain about your snow if you must. And if things get too bad, call me. I'd gladly trade you a night or two of mid fifties for a little frozen heaven...
This photo was taken shortly after our family moved to Alaska in 2006. It's the view from the outside of our first apartment. Our living room window is just under the porch light, and it was about 11am (not pm) at the time of this photo. That's about as light as it gets in the winter. We had gotten something like three feet of snow within a twelve hour period, and that's my son behind my crouching husband in the picture. They were installing another heater on our car so that the block wouldn't freeze.
Alaska is like living in another world. I know that most people who go there to visit, go in summer and for good reason. But you haven't really seen Alaska until you've spent a winter there.
It's not just the snowfall, or even the temperature that makes it unique. It's the spirit of the land. Yes, I said spirit. Alaska is pure. Maybe it's because it's so far from the equator, but the light is different there. I'm not just talking about the amount of light, I'm talking about the light itself. To me, it seems unfiltered. Colors are more vibrant, and the sky contains hues belonging to another world.
Folks who visit Alaska in the summer don't get to see much change in the sky, after all it's the land of the mid-night sun. But in winter, you'll see grey, blue, green, yellow, purple, red, orange, and white all in the same day, and not just from sunrise or sunset -which by the way, is almost non-existant in winter and in peak times of summer because the sun just kind of moves in a circle around the horizon. What I mean is the moisture, the humidity, catches the light and reflects it like rainbow prisms.
Things sound and smell different in Alaska too. I grew up on the East Coast, and believe me when I tell you, that you know when you're getting close to the ocean or the bay! They have a distinct odor, like rotting vegetation or sulfur. But Alaska's biggest city- Anchorage-is nestled in the arms of the Cook Inlet and I never once smelled the water there! Even when our family traveled down to Homer, Seward, or Valdez, which are right on the open ocean, we didn't smell the water like one can here. Someone told me it's because the air is heavier, but I don't know how much truth there is to that.
Sounds are crisper in Alaska, and in winter you would swear that the train whistle you just heard means the train is about to pass you. In truth, the train is still miles away. Evidentually, this too is due to the density of the air. I'm no scientist so I'll accept that. If the temperature drops rapidly, any sap left in the trees will freeze, and the sound that it makes when it splits the wood is like gunfire. When my husband and I moved up to Fairbanks (in the interior of the state), we lived on the edge of the forest. I often thought that there were hunters in our backyard when in fact it was just the sound of the trees bursting open.
Anyway, in case you haven't noticed, I'm reminiscing. I'm missing the moose, the fox, the eagles, and the bears. I'm missing having to pile on layer upon layer of clothing, just to go out and check the mail. I'm missing having to put ice grips on the bottom of my shoes, so I don't break my neck when I go out to check the mail! I'm missing the cold that freezes your lungs and makes you feel like you swallowed razor blades, because the ice particles in the air are stabbing your insides. I miss the vehicle tires being flat when you go out in the morning, because the air has settled within them and they need time to warm up and adjust to the outside temperature which is colder than cold! I miss having to thaw out our door with the hair dryer just to unfreeze the lock, so that I can get out of the house. Okay, I'm crazy! But I miss all of that. And although I know that this place is better for my old bones, part of my heart will always be in that frozen tundra of another world-Alaska!
So friends, complain about your snow if you must. And if things get too bad, call me. I'd gladly trade you a night or two of mid fifties for a little frozen heaven...
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