January 1, 2010 2:55am
Where to start? New Years Day today. I rang in the new-year alone on a blue moon. I wonder if it’s true that there is only one blue moon every two and a half years. Does it seem odd that it should be on New Years Eve?
I have become entranced by the Alaskan night and I just had to write it down. I have this image in my mind right now of why I love this place so dearly and I wanted to get it down in print. As I stood on my porch and took in the night I wanted to share my thoughts, this image and this feeling.
The night is so quiet and beautiful. The full moon’s light makes it as bright as day only without all of the garishly bright colors. Everything is muted. It is all silver gilt and blue tinted glass. The trees stand black against the snow and glitter with crystal prisms of moonlight. I stand under a stardust sky. There are no city lights to fade even the faintest of the stars. Wonder and awe vie in my mind and the frosted plumes of my breath slow as I relax and take in the magnificent beauty that surrounds me. A breath of wind threads it’s way through the towering pines and brushes my skin with an icy caress. I close my eyes and deeply inhale the crisp winter air.
People that do not live here seem to think that Alaska is a barren wasteland of nothing but permafrost and tundra. They could not be farther from the truth. I am happy to allow them that. I don’t want anyone to discover the riches of this land. Alaska in winter, there is a no more chillingly glorious sight.
With a sigh I push away from the sturdy wooden column of my porch railing and turn to make my way back inside. The dry heat of the wood stove envelopes me with warmth as I slip inside the door. The fire crackles and snaps a welcoming song and the shadows play a cheerful game of tag with the flickering fingers of light that twist and turn upon the walls. I can hear the soft rustles and quiet mumbles of my kids sleeping in the loft above and as I settle into my chair before the fire my speckled husky mutt shoves her cold nose into my palm. I lean back and stroke her silky soft fur and drowsily watch the flames dance. I think I may want a cup of tea or maybe a coffee but dismiss this as too much trouble. Lethargy slowly steals the strength from my muscles and my comfy warm bed starts to look like a very good idea. The morning sun will break with dawn soon enough. I bank the fire and seal the door before burrowing beneath the plush covers of my bed. A pitiful whine reminds me that I have forgotten one very important bedtime ritual. I crack one eye and grin as a wet puppy tongue washes my cheek. She is only waiting for my invitation. I pat the empty space beside me and she leaps up on to the bed. I snuggle up to her and burry my fingers in her thick fur. The Alaskan night whispers a sweet song of peace that lulls me to sleep. Is it any wonder that this land should hold my heart?
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