Weekend Warrior

I was out working in the tundra this weekend, including visiting a new-to-me village.  And this was my first sight when I landed; don't worry, there's no one in there.  Definately among the weirdest sights I've encountered.

 

 

I also had the pleasure of visiting one of my favorite and smallest villages.  It's easy to miss things that you see often, including this view.  The village only has one road, right through the middle of town, with some lots undeveloped/vacant.  This swingset sits between a house and an empty lot, leaving an awesome view of the tundra to swing into.  I don't think I've ever seen any kids on it.

The small village is by the sea (or the Sound in this case), with a beach right by town and cliffs down to the sea from the bluffs on either side of town.  I usually get a bit of down time when I visit here and love to walk the beach.  I have a small glass jar on my kitchen windowsill at home with beach glass collected on this beach.  My most memorable walk here was with a'bone lady', a fantastically knowledgeable and entertaining archaeologist.  Now I can't walk here without seeing every bone and bone fragment and wishing she was with me to tell me the story.

And then there are the small plane flights in and out of the villages.  I took a charter out of the village this time because there are few (one) flights on Sundays.  Otherwise the only jet I could catch home would have put me there after 10:30 pm.  Never mind that the one I did catch was delayed over an hour; it just meant I had time to have yummy ginger tea and an ice cream cone in Town.  Don't worry, I had some curry too.

I can't imagine the view from the air ever getting boring.  There is always something to see and look for; animals, fish camps, geographical patterns made by water, wind, and time.  I always feel really lucky and have child like glee in my heart when I get an aerial view.

Town even looks cool from the air!  The distance to the airport can really vary, but this one is right on the edge.

Deep Winter

At the closing of another year we often stop to ponder our lives and cajole ourselves into being optomistic about the coming year. I believe by definition, this is an act of insanity, which someone once said is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. How is it that we can do this to ourselves, every year? Perhaps it's just the grip of deep winter or the overcast weeks we've been having. Weather really does play a big part in our lives here.

Today the sun has finally broken out of the clouds for more than 5 minutes and is raising our hopes for what is yet to come. It only takes a few minutes and we forget all about the darkness of the past. We can see the mountains in the distance and the naked trees and glittering snow covered surfaces in the clear daylight and we turn our faces to that shining orb in the sky and smile.

While you're waiting for the clock to strike midnight tonight, step outside and bathe in the moonlight. Stare at the stars and smile. And expect next year to be the same as this one for once; full of life, ups, downs, good, bad, surprises and mundane daily dishes. And may you love every minute of it.