Thursday, October 22, 2009

Snow.....


Snow.....
How wonderful nature is, a new canvas everyday.
There are people like me, there must be, that enjoy the intrinsic beauty of the first sight of the frozen crystals.

I love the minute water droplets that are transformed magically in the clouds and morph into unique crystals, that gently float to the ground. Not like the rain that splatters, so that everything it touches is moved. I love the delicate flakes that land softly, so as not to disturb the object it lands on. The crystals barely touch each other, like down feathers in a pile, so much air in between each flake, so light and fluffy. It is so quiet when it’s snowing, you could not hear a pin drop, the sound would be muffled by the blanket of white.
Everything is brighter, even with complete cloud cover, it makes me feel happy. The flock of red Grossbeaks sitting on the dark green branches of the spruce tree, really stand out with the contrast of white. I tried taking a photo but it’s still a little dark. The sun will not be up for another hour or so and by then the Grossbeaks will be on their way to who knows where. The black capped Chickadees are at the feeder, snow falling all around them. There are maybe twelve or so, flitting back and forth, eating the sunflower seeds, just like on the Christmas cards. I’ve opened the kitchen window so I can hear their chatter, chicka-de-de-de.

Oh, how I love winter......the cold and snow and silence, somehow, it makes me feel warm, like it’s cradling and comforting me. I love the way the cold air chills my face and makes my eyes water. I’m not crazy about how cold my glasses get or how they fog up when I come inside, but it’s a small price to pay to be able to feel the invigorating cold. It makes me feel, so alive!

It’s snowing, it’s snowing, it’s snowing! I must go, it's calling me........

Friday, October 9, 2009

Rocks



10/09/09

What can you say about rocks? You step on them, you sit on them when you’re tired, kids climb on them, you skip them across water, you build walls with them, and line your garden with them, but have you ever really looked at rocks close up. I'm not talking about your run of the mill, gray jagged edged, boring rocks. I'm talking about interesting rocks! You know, the red ones, the spotted ones, the green smooth rocks, rocks with white stripes, heart shaped rocks, round smooth river rocks, rocks that wash up on the beach, etc.


I've been picking up rocks for almost fifteen years now, I have boxes of them. Rocks from Wyoming, Montana, Washington, British Columbia, the Yukon, Niagara Falls, Michigan, the beaches of Maine, Connecticut, Alaska and Ireland.

There was one beautiful rock on the North shore of Lake Superior, that was so large, I couldn’t lift it. I worked for hours, sweating profusely, rolling it, prying it with a large branch and finally, managed to get it back to the camper. Try as I might, and much to my chagrin, and after extensive contemplation, I came to the conclusion that there was no way I could possibly lift or maneuver that boulder into the truck or camper, .....I sadly, had to leave it behind.



There were three rocks, from the tailings of Crazy Horse that were so heavy, I thought my arms would come out of their sockets on the long walk carrying them back to my truck on the far side of the parking lot. I was hoping for some help, but all I received were some really strange stares.



While traveling across country with my sister and her husband, we stopped in a Rock Shop in South Dakota. There were shelves of crystals, pyrite, fossils and gemstones. It was great fun to browse, lots of eye candy everywhere. We asked the man behind the counter if he could identify some of the rocks that we found in a river along the way. We thought they were chunks of Turquoise.....we never did get a straight answer. On one of the shelves there was a large Citrine quartz crystal, about twice the size of a softball, it caught my eye and every few minutes would go back to look at it again. It was $40.00, too much for my budget, besides, who in their right mind would pay for a rock! We walked around and around, finally got back in the truck and just as we were about to pull out of the driveway I said, WAIT, I have to go get that rock! I can’t believe I “PAID” for a rock but it was calling me, and so, it sits on my night-stand at my sisters house and was worth every penny.

Thank goodness for the Post Office and their “Flat Rate” boxes. I’ve mailed home about one hundred twenty pounds of rocks over the past few years. I hope they don’t change their policy and put a limit on the weight of those boxes. Two years ago, I was in Fairbanks, getting ready to put my camper in storage for the winter and was packing up all my belongings. Everywhere I looked in the camper and the truck, there were rocks.



I gathered the smaller ones into a couple of milk crates until they were overflowing, I thought, wow, that’s a lot, of rocks, and quite a heavy load. No wonder my gas milage is so poor! From under the mattress, I took three $12.95 flat rate boxes that I always keep on hand and began to fill them. As I crammed a few of the smaller rocks into the edges, I thought, yikes, I don’t know if the Post Office will accept this or not?
I sealed all the corners with packing tape, addressed it to my sisters house and went on to the next box. Yup, filled all three boxes and still had enough rocks to fill six more!
Off to the Post Office I went. I could only carry one box at a time. I figured they weighed between twenty-five to thirty pounds each. I had to wait in line........yes, as you know, there’s always a line at the Post Office. I placed the first box on the side counter and headed back out to the truck to retrieve the other two boxes. I wasn’t worried about anyone taking them, no one could lift them, or want to! After thirty minutes or so, and some interesting conversations while waiting, it was my turn at the window. One by one, I hefted the boxes onto the counter and was asked the usual question......Anything liquid, fragile, perishable, or hazardous? No, not in my boxes! The clerk slid the box onto the scale,(I think for her own curiosity) and with a sullen look on her face, she peered at me over the top of her glasses and said, “You’re really getting your moneys worth, aren’t you?” I thought my plan was doomed! I just smiled and said, yes.
She asked if I would like to insure the boxes......I hesitated, they were irreplaceable.......but I said no. I finally whispered to her, (why the whisper, I don’t know), that the boxes were filled with my treasure of rocks. She lit up like a Christmas Tree and said she loved rocks! That her husband threatened if she brought any more rocks home, she would have to find a new place to live.......and take her rocks with her! With a wry smile, I told her in, no uncertain terms, if the rocks didn’t arrive safely back to the East coast, I’d know where to start looking!
My rock collecting has gotten to the point of absurdity! I don’t have a place to put them. I live in my camper, or stay with family. What in the world am I to do with all these rocks? For now, they are all safe in storage, in Maine, boxes and boxes of them and there are more than a few boxes in my sisters closet.



Now that I’m back in Alaska, I’ve begun to gather again, surprise, surprise! Taking the dogs for long walks three or four times a day, gives me the opportunity to peruse the landscape, and I’m in a prime spot. This area was covered in glaciers not to long ago and it is a virtual mine field of possibilities. I wonder how these rocks were formed, how far have they traveled, and wonder, where will they end up and how many can I carry?



I remember being in the middle of no where, on a trail in the Alaska Range and seeing a rock up on a bluff, about the size of a baseball that was forced apart with quartz strands. It was the most interesting rock I think I’ve ever seen. At the time, I thought I had collected enough rocks and just took a photo of it and walked on. That night, I could not get that rock out of my head, I could not sleep and decided, first thing in the morning, I would go back and find it. I spent three days, looking for it! I even gave a picture of the rock to two teenage girls I had met, gave them the best directions I could as to where I thought it was, and offered a twenty dollar reward if they brought it back to me, it was never found.


The poor dogs I’m sitting for, get dragged up hills and down the rock slides. I’ve been good and haven’t worn my back pack, I only fill my vest or jacket pockets. I make cairns with the rocks I can’t take with me and then return later with my camera. I can do a whole photo exhibit with my rock photos!
I’m trying my darnedest to be selective, but many of those rocks are just to beautiful to leave behind............



Hmmm, I’ve just left a note in the mail box and asked the Post man to leave a couple of “Large” flat rate boxes the next time he delivers the mail!

Saturday, October 3, 2009

October 3rd, 2009


October 3rd, 2009

Here I sit at the dining room table in Paxson, AK. I’m gazing out the window as the snow is pouring down. Tiny light flakes coming to rest on the evergreen branches. I can see and hear a huge black raven clucking and cawing, I also hear hooting? I just got up and opened the door to see if I could find where the hooting was coming from. I’m still trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive owl that lives somewhere here in the trees by the river. The complete silence makes your ears attune to the slightest sound. To my amazement, it was the raven that was hooting! Native folk lore calls the raven “The Trickster”, he certainly is, he mimics what he hears! I wish I could have had the room in my suitcase to bring my movie camera. I would have loved to catch that on video. He sat on the branch high up in the spruce tree, bobbing his head up and down, hooting and clucking. I watched for 30-40 seconds and as soon as I raised the camera, he flew off to who knows where.......... I stood for a moment wishing I could follow him just to hear his story again.
It was time to check for eggs. Entering the chicken pen and walking towards the coup, I startled the Magpie as he flew out, egg yolk dripping from his beak...GGGRRRRR. Two of the six eggs had been pecked open and their contents devoured by the insidious magpie! He had not gotten to the lone cold egg that was in the farthest nesting box. Thank goodness, one of the hens is very protective and pecks at anyone or any bird, that tries to remove the eggs she's sitting on, three to be exact! I pulled my sleeve down over my hand and endured the multiple sharp pecks as I lifted her and quickly grabbed the three warm eggs that she was keeping under careful watch.
I retrieved the two dogs from their pen, covered in a blanket of white, back to the house. Much to their dismay, they are blockaded in the entrance way until they dry off. I play the harmonica (very loose term) to entertain myself, both dogs sit, stick their noses in the air, and howl along. I’m not sure if they enjoy the sound or are begging me to stop the painful noise! I think it’s the latter.....poor things!
Looking out the window toward where the mountain was out in a beautiful display yesterday, with the caribou grazing everywhere, all I can see is a curtain of white. Everyday is a different palate, a tribute to Mother Nature and her magnificent power.
It’s a good day to cuddle up next to the wood stove, read a book and keep a sharp ear out for the trickster.