It is gloriously beautiful these days. The sun shines so bright. It beckons you outside. I feel the sun on my face and wait to feel the warmth. I guess I will need to wait longer. Even though the sun is brilliant, -17 is too cold to feel the suns rays on my face!
The view from my school window is not very interesting. My view is of a blank wall of a next door portable. There is enough space between the two buildings to see falling snow or blowing wind. My students and I use the window to hang “art” instead of viewing the outdoors. We almost don’t notice the window unless really dramatic weather happens.
Yesterday, we had a snow storm. Up here, a snow storm could mean many different types of weather. Yesterday, it meant beautiful, medium-sized snowflurries that gently drifted down from the sky. The flurries were wet enough to stick everywhere. Walls and windows were covered with fluffy drifts. I happened to look out my window and for some reason was drawn to look down the alley way between the main building and the portables. I noticed a little chain link fence filled with flurries. The fence had been shaped by winters of heavy snow and bent by heavy ice. Now its bends and curves were draped with all the soft flurries.
I went back today to see if I could climb back through the snow and take a closer shot. Alas, the snow had been blown out by the wind. I’m glad I was able to capture what I did. It was another reminder to always have my camera with me.
Out of context, I’m not sure if this photograph makes sense. This shot was taken looking straight down onto Norton Sound from an airplane. The lower part of the photo is the sea ice that sticks to the coast. You can see the pattern of the snow as it’s blown across the ice. The blue in the center is the sea water. The ice above the blue is the free ice that is blown around by the wind. I thought it was interesting that I could see the layers on the broken edge of the ice down into the sea water.
The ongoing fascination with sea ice continues…
(The current mode of transportation for us is a snowmachine towing a sled. Cool, huh?)
Last summer, we shipped up 30 rubbermaid tubs full of provisions for the year. We calculated out how much rice, beans, pasta, flour, canned products, tea, coffee, etc. that we thought we would need. We spent a full day shopping, packing, and shipping our groceries. From Anchorage, it cost about $.75 per pound to ship the containers to Shishmaref. In addition to the mailed tubs, we stuffed three coolers full of frozen goods (meat, juice, veggies) and hand carried those out here. We actually saved all of our lists and have them analyzed and ready to use again this coming summer.
We estimated as best we could what we thought we would need for a school year. I’m impressed how well we have done. We have supplemented our initial shopping with items from the two stores in Shishmaref. The stores have quite a bit of ready-to-eat processed food. We were surprised at how much was available at the stores. We are careful. Sometimes the products are outdated. Our grocery shopping at the stores is usually eggs and fresh fruit or veggies. The eggs run about $8 per 18. Because eggs are too hard to ship ourselves, we rely on the stores up here.
People up here take opportunities to go to Anchorage to do fill-in shopping. Otherwise, we can “bush order” groceries through the mail from Fred Meyer or a couple of other companies. Most companies will charge a packing fee, the cost of the groceries, and the cost of the shipping. Besides flying in and out of here, groceries are our biggest expense.
We had an opportunity to go to our district office last weekend. The picture above is the last of the grocery shopping for the year from the village store at Unalakleet. We bought frozen vegetables, apples, butter, onions, gum, and other items. After spending $212, hopping a 10-seater bush plane, and being toted behind a snow machine on a sled, our groceries are home and we are stocked up for the last part of the school year.
Have you ever seen anything like this? Glacial blue water. Fire engine red berries. Green towering spires encasing this outdoor cathedral. A beautiful shrine.
Have I said already that I am a big fan of Edwin’s work?
This piece is carved from reindeer antler. As I imagined, he saw the antler and immediately saw the shapes of the mother and child, and carved the antler to release their images. The small black dots are inlaid baleen. The decorative spray fan is also made from whale baleen. The faces of both mother and child are joyful and sweet which is a mark of Edwin’s work.
The Inupiat Eskimos in Shishmaref wear these beautiful coats. Up here, they call them “parkis.” At first glance, they look like brightly colored, thin, pullover-style coats, trimmed in fur. As I have gotten my hands on a few (I have literally petted several), and talked to people, a more interesting coat was revealed.
While it’s true that the outer layer is colorful and sometimes is made of very thin fabric, it is actually only an outer layer. Underneath is a very heavy layer made of animal skin. In many cases, it is spotted seal or caribou. The bottom of the skin is ruffed in a more ornate fur, like beaver. You can see my young model’s parki is ruffed in beaver. The cuffs and hood are also ruffed with fur designed to be attractive and also designed to keep the wind and cold away from the face and hands. I’ve spoken with a few people about different animal furs. It seems wolverine and polar bear are very warm and shield well from the wind and blowing snow. The creation of the parki is definitely women’s work. I understand that some women teach their daughters to pass the skill down and other women take classes that are offered in the community.
(I did get permission from my young friend’s guardian to post her picture. But because of the insanity of the world, that is as much as I will share about her.)
It has only been two weeks since winter solstice and I can already tell the sun is stretching higher into the horizon. I wasn’t the only one who sensed this. On Sunday, I was amazed to see the community bustling with activity. People were out tooling around on their snowmachines (snowmobiles to you in the lower 48). Children were out playing in snow clothes, tethered to sleds. There were combinations of people pulling sleds by snowmachine. The general air in the community was buzzing with life and movement.
Besides the sunshine, the other noticeable difference was the temperature. It was 39 degrees! No hat was needed. No gloves were needed. It was downright balmy. Ok, maybe that’s a wee bit of exaggeration. But it was way warmer and sunnier than it has been.
After enjoying the beautiful day and contemplating the amount of activity, one more glance at the sky revealed a sunset beyond words. The sky was an unspeakable pink on an azure backdrop. The photograph taken is a good representation of the colors. Now, imagine being engulfed in this sky.
Alaska’s state flower is the forget-me-not. My choice for the state flower is fireweed. This magenta beauty thrives in open areas. Up close, it stands tall and proud. From a distance, it colors entire mountainsides. Magnificent.
I had never seen fireweed until our first venture into Alaska. When I look through my past photos, my love for this flower is obvious. I have shots of it alone, mixtures of fireweed blended with other wildflowers, and meadows and mountainsides blanketed by this beauty. There is something appealing about a flower that thrives in the aftermath of a possible disaster and is the beginning of new growth for a burned out area. It’s the picture of hope.
Since my introduction to the flower, I have learned this plant also has culinary benefits. Last summer, I tasted it in a natural plant stir fry. I also have tasted fireweed tea. The dried tea in a jar was beautiful, too. Next summer I plan to harvest some to work with in the winter and try it out for myself.
It was about 2 o’clock in the afternoon. The snow had stopped and the clouds broke. The slanted sun rays kissed the freshly fallen snow. The sky was painted with pinks and oranges. The sunshine looked…warm. But don’t let the sun rays fool you. The village thermometer read 12 degrees at the end of our walk. A couple of hours later, the village thermometer fallen to 6 degrees. I think I’m finally getting the winter weather I’ve been asking for.
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