Winter Wonder

Winter Wonder

Today I decided I really should venture out since the wind was supposed to back off for a day, although the northeast wind brought exceedingly cold temperatures with it. I really don’t understand the mechanics behind the infamous Taku winds that sweep down from the ice fields, and from Canada before that, to bring hurricane force winds to downtown Juneau and Douglas while leaving other parts of the city cold but wind free.

Now it’s sunset on this cold gorgeous day, although it is not quite 3:00 p.m. There are soft pink lined clouds in the part of the sunset that I can see. The orange sky is hidden behind the trees down the street because the sun has gone almost as far as it can go into the southern sky. In two days it will begin its climb back northward as we celebrate the return of the light in these northern latitudes.

I went out with a purpose, although I can’t really remember what exactly it was. It may have been contrived as a trip to the store, whatever that meant at the time. We are low on a number of things but none of them are life threatening if we have to do without. I think I really just wanted an excuse to get out and drive around in this winter wonderland.

I was not disappointed. Yesterday’s wind, unlike the Taku winds, did come to my house. All day long snow was blowing off the trees in big puffs of fine white crystals, piling up in just shoveled spots and baring others. So I was surprised as I turned off the main highway toward the glacier that the enormous trees were still quite covered. In places it looked surreal, as if some giant AI had taken over the land and turned it into Narnia. It was breathtaking with the stark raving white mountains towering above the snow covered scene. I found it hard to believe that this is a city street, a main thoroughfare, used by hundreds of drivers daily. Hidden in the white was a green stoplight; as if making some defiant statement of spring being yet to come.

I drove for a while enchanted by the glory, but finally decided 2 degrees was just too cold for me to take a walk at the glacier; as if I could have clamored over the huge berms that were sure to be everywhere.

Stopping for a quick purchase at a favorite location I soon found myself in the car again, headed to the grocery store. I didn’t go. Instead I took the highway toward town, intending to brave Costco which would not be as windy and hopefully less crowded today.

I didn’t go. Instead I turned back toward Fred Meyer, thinking I would do some grocery shopping there. I pulled into the parking lot, took one look at the glorious sun streaming in the window of the car and all the cars in the parking lot… and left.

With two days until winter solstice the sun, if it shows itself at all, is at a very low angle and doesn’t hang around long. Where to take advantage of it was the question. There aren’t many spots out of the trees or mountain shadow even in the middle of the day. The beach is the obvious answer, and normally that would be my default choice. But there was a brisk breeze and it was somewhere between 2 and 4 degrees.

I settled on the harbor…except it wasn’t there. Not like usual anyway. What was there was a strange, extremely beautiful, absolutely mesmerizing sight. Where there is usually water with seals and birds between the boat launch ramp and the boats, there were roiling, swirling, wisps of water vapor, as if all the angels in heaven had brought the clouds to earth and were having a giant soccer match with them. The scene was made more unworldly by the low angle sunlight streaming through the strands of vapor, alternately casting shimmering light and dancing shadow. A straight line of poles reached skyward through the vision. Below them a horizontal line of fluffy white pillows of snow were all that could be seen of the boat launch dock.

It was very quiet as I sat in my sunlit car and ate a sandwich. Even the cars and trucks pulling up to get gas or running into the convenience store for a quick lunch were strangely muffled in the blankets of snow. Two ravens flew quickly by and a lone eagle disappeared into the trees.

The world stood still as the sun began to slowly sink behind the distant mountain. As the golden orb gave one last burst of brilliance over the bay I could still see vapor rising in the distance. All seemed so right with the world that it was hard to imagine that anything could be wrong. For a few hours or so the horrifying images of the news were replaced by scenes of peaceful wonder. I gave a silent thanks for the gift.

Happy Holidays Everyone