Life in the North

Almost every morning, I walk with my husband up to his work, or at least close to his work, then leave him and come home. This morning, as usual, it was cold and dark, but also very quiet and the sky was huge and speckled with stars. It was about 7:40 am and about -15 degrees. You could hear the scrunch, scrunch, scrunch of boots in the unbroken snow. Shadowy, androgynous people approach and retreat looking larger than life with ruffs around their bulky parkas and face masks revealing only eyes. A dark highwayman came walking briskly by us. A few minutes after he passed us, we could see him ahead of us examining the pathway. When we got to the same spot, we saw fresh moose tracks in the snow and a pile of moose droppings. A moose, from the prints a large one, was nearby. It heightened our awareness. To my disappointment and also elation, I never caught a glimpse of it on the 3 mile walk, but you know how you can sometimes sense something watching you? Uh-huh- I know it was close.

We hung icicle lights on our fence. My prior practice has been to wait until it is both dark and cold to struggle with the Christmas "spirit", but today at 3:00 it was only cold and twilight, but not completely dark. Electric cords get very stiff and brittle, but we (Ben and I) managed to hook the twists in the chain link fence. Our fingers were close to getting contact frostbite when we finally came in for hot drinks. The blue LED lights look great for 20 of the 24 hours.

In Alaska, traffic lights have different meanings than everywhere else due to the 9 month icy winter roads. A green light means stop and wait for 3 more cars to slide through the intersection before you go, yellow means hurry and go across and red means you can go if there are only 2 cars ahead of you. Besides the slippery surfaces, you also have to worry about snowmachines scooting across, moose stepping into your path, pedestrians that disappear into the shadows and runners/bicyclists who appear out of nowhere and are not willing to wait very long. The darkness exacerbates your vision (am I allowed to say that?).

Some friends are coming over to celebrate Cheryl's 40th birthday with a surprise party. The tomato bread, spinach salad and chicken adobo are tasty on a cold day. When I was 40, I had a 10 year old and a 17 year old (exchanged to Russia) and had just moved from village teaching to Fairbanks, the big city. It was when I was just starting to be aware of life's potential. Happy birthday, Cheryl!