Skiers refer to a bluebird day as a beautiful sunny day, often after an overnight snowfall. What did the bluebirds have to do with this? Bluebirds are a group of brightly colored birds in the thrush family, native to the Americas. Apparently the Iroquois believed their call could chase away Sawiskera, the spirit of winter.
“The bluebird carries the sky on his back.”
Henry David Thoreau
Anyways, bluebird days are always welcome in my books. And it is not even winter yet…
Here struck between this heaven blue
Lou Doillon
This emerald green
Life takes on so easy
And here our eyes shine bright
And our smiles are free
And this golden light
It fits like a crown
The slowness of climate change is a fairy tale, perhaps as pernicious as the one that says it isn’t happening at all, and comes to us bundled with several others in an anthology of comforting delusions: that global warming is an Arctic saga, unfolding remotely; that it is strictly a matter of sea level and coastlines, not an enveloping crisis sparing no place and leaving no life undeformed; that it is a crisis of the “natural” world, not the human one; that those two are distinct, and that we live today somehow outside or beyond or at the very least defended against nature, not inescapably within and literally overwhelmed by it; that wealth can be a shield against the ravages of warming; that the burning of fossil fuels is the price of continued economic growth; that growth, and the technology it produces, will allow us to engineer our way out of environmental disaster; that there is any analogue to the scale or scope of this threat, in the long span of human history, that might give us confidence in staring it down.
None of this is true.
David Wallace-Wells, The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming
Winter made his first foray into central Alaska with snow and freezing temperatures. It seems unreal to read about fall colors just arriving in parts of the lower 48s. Nevertheless, the writing is on the wall: Winter is coming. I am taking it easy, currently. No work commitment, no deadlines. That gives me time to go through memory cards from last winter that are still loaded with some unedited images.
It makes quite a difference to sit in a warm cabin and look at the pictures taken at dawn, the coldest time of the day, when it takes some determination to step outside and set up the camera. In February the lowest temp was -45 degrees Fahrenheit. For most people that’s cold.
Nevertheless, the light and sounds in those circumstances are remarkable, I can’t say much about scent, since nose hair are frozen and nerve endings seem temporarily disengaged. Well, here are some pictures that bring back memories of a silent, cold winter morning in the Brooks Range.
Never forget that anticipation is an important part of life. Work’s important, family’s important, but without excitement, you have nothing. You’re cheating yourself if you refuse to enjoy what’s coming.”
― Nicholas Sparks
Ah, the quote. Why am I writing this? Am I looking forward to another winter in Alaska? The jury is still out on that. However, I am looking forward to unrestricted travel and a manageable pandemic. Please do your part to get this outbreak under control.
Cheers
Here is half a dozen images shot in the Brooks Range in the Summer of 2020. The number of out of state visitors was way down due to the pandemic. A mountain range that offers true wilderness, if you manage to get away from the one and only road through the range.
“To the complaint, ‘There are no people in these photographs,’ I respond, There are always two people: the photographer and the viewer.”
Ansel Adams
Somebody said if you shoot portraits in black & white then you photograph the people’s soul. I believe that applies to landscapes as well.
Be safe.
“We felt very nice and snug, the more so since it was so chilly out of doors. The more so, I say, because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself. “
Herman Melville
That’s a passage from Moby Dick.
Now that I am back from the Arctic, I had a couple of weeks time to contemplate about my summer up North.
Compared to other travel destinations few people travel to the far North, to experience foul weather, thirsty mosquitoes and a lack of most conveniences. Nevertheless, there are some, that enjoy this harsh environment. I was wondering if the inconveniences make you appreciate the little things that you have up there more.
Maybe a shelter in the woods feels more special than your standard home in a gated community. Or the blueberries that you picked yourself, while watching for bears and battling the always present mosquitoes taste better than the exotic fruits you can buy in the supermarket? Or the unexpected kindness that was offered to you feels better than the best online deal you ever got?
For me it was the solitude that came with the vast landscape, the absence of humans and their doings and the sense of self -reliance in the back country that made an impression on me.
I can appreciate the conveniences of civilized life, but in the spirit of Herman Melville, there comes the day, when I need a little bit of roughing it, just for good measure.
“Where is home for you?”
How do you answer that question? Is it the place you grew up in? Maybe you call home the place where you currently reside. Either way, in most cases that place comes with a street address and a zip code. A valid mailing address.
Without that, you are almost … nothing.
“Living in the present moment with quiet joy and happiness”
I am looking forward to reading Sam Wright’s book “Koviashuvik – Making a home in the Brooks Range”. Sam was a biologist, priest, and teacher who lived with his wife decades north of the Arctic Circle in a one-room log cabin, reflecting on life, mankind, and wilderness. He called his home Koviashuvik, which means a time and place of joy and happiness. According to Inuit tradition one must live in harmony with nature to experience koviashuvik,
I have not found a street address for Sam’s home, but living in a place with such a beautiful name, I imagine you don’t care that you can’t have a residential phone line, a cable subscription, or even utilities…
Maybe it was just the lack of modern day amenities (and obligations) and the presence of a relatively undisturbed wilderness that made his home a happy place…
“Here is your country. Do not let selfish men or greedy interests skin your country of its beauty, its riches or its romance.”
Theodore Roosevelt
I wish I could find contemporary quotes that seem worthy printing.
What will people say about us in hundred years?
What was once an ancient seabed is now visible as one of the most recognizable mountains of the Brooks Range. Just 4,459 ft but close to the Dalton Hwy., so it can be climbed in a day. The limestone deposit was subjected to intense heat and pressure, which caused it to metamorphose into marble. Slowly crumbling away. Apparently ice forms in the winter, attracting hardy ice climbers. The East slopes just beg for some back country skiing.
Like a hunter and gatherer I collected this image on a rare calm day with interesting clouds swirling around the mountain. On June 13 I stood alone on top of the mountain. IT Is hard to express the awe, peace, and humility I felt.
“Over the years I have discovered that each minute spent in the Arctic – whether in a tent in foul weather, on top of a breath-taking mountain, or in the midst of ten thousand caribou – carries the fullness of a rare wilderness experience.”
Debbie Miller
“I am the lover of uncontained and immortal beauty. In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in streets or villages. In the tranquil landscape, and especially in the distant line of the horizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as his own nature.”
Summer 2018 seems to go into the record books as a relatively cool and wet one, quite in contrast to the rest of the nation. Nevertheless, there were clear, warm, breezy, and calm days sprinkled into the mix. The constantly changing weather patterns made for great photo opportunities, I think. Rainy days were used for sorting through my images, making pastry, doing laundry, roughly in that order.
On my blueberry and mushroom expeditions, I ended frequently on ridge tops, which offered the best views of the immensity of the Brooks Range, short of being in a bush plane. Haven’t seen a single paraglider, although these hills are just calling for it. Gentle slopes in all directions, no powerlines, no fences… Once in a while a golden eagle or a pair of ravens are cruising along the ridge lines, showing me where the upwinds are. The same hills should make for amazing backcountry skiing, sans the cold… Maybe I will come back in March or April, when the winter temperatures may be bearable, and come to think of it, when there is also sufficient daylight for this activity. At night, I could watch the northern lights.
Endicott Mountains, Brooks Range, Alaska
The oldtimers say September brings cooler, clear days. We shall see. The North Slope has already been blanketed several times with a couple inches of snow.
Bearly 