Spring fever is in the air. After only four hours of daylight in the fall, much darkness, sadness, adjustment, the sun is here to stay.
Everyone is coming out of the woodwork. As roads continue to clear, children are seen riding their bikes, playing in the diminishing piles of snow, jumping in puddles. I find myself just wanting to be outside as much as possible soaking up the sun, breathing fresh air, stepping on soft ground.
Josh and I took a drive out of town recently - the road is now open.
It was surreal driving through tundra and mountains. I had to remind myself that this is where I live. I’m in Alaska, and I’m only a few minutes out of town.
This past Saturday, a group of us took a hike out to one of the gold dredges out on the tundra. It has been abandoned since probably the 1980s. I felt like we were exploring another world.
As I look forward to the summertime with lush, green tundra and rolling ocean waves, I will remember this as a time of transition – shaking off my time in hibernation and reflection to a period of new growth.