No Place Like Home(r): Midnight Sun & New Moon

Solstice (the longest day of sunlight in the year) took place on June 20th. It's true that the sun never really sets here. I've walked to the outhouse at 2am, and there is still enough light to scan for bears in the tall brush surrounding the cabin, and at 4am I witnessed the sunrise not far from the spot on the horizon where it set. I have thick black-out curtains in my lofted bedroom to filter out the ever-present light, and have yet to need a bedside lamp to do my late night reading. Sometimes, I am awakened in the middle of the night by a gentle earthquake rocking the cabin.

It's been well established now among locals that this is an unseasonable cool and wet summer. It's starting to feel like groundhog day- waking up to the same overcast and 50 degree weather indistinguishable from the day before. I am beginning to adjust- taking advantage by reading and doing research on cloudy days, then acting like a maniac on sunny days rushing around to different activities and staying outdoors until I'm exhausted and my face is bright red from sun and wind.

I can feel myself getting stronger from the 5 gallon jugs I haul into my cabin as my source of water that are becoming lighter with each week as my arm muscles grow. My regular yoga practice, long runs along the breathtaking Old East End road, and hauling food and water for the dogs are also helping me stay physically and mentally healthy.

I have been quite busy and learning a lot: I got to put on a bee suit and check the hives with my WWOOF host Al, I am teaching outdoor yoga classes three days a week, I've been helping out locals with various projects such as fence building and house painting in exchange for cash, I harvest every Friday night at Homer Hilltop Farm, I have finished 5 books, and I am planning a trip to Seward (complete with sea kayaking!) in late July. In the evenings for company I bring Angie the dog into my cabin and we cuddle together.

There is only one month left of my time living in the Last Frontier, which feels simultaneously like an eternity and like it will pass too quickly.

Midnight Sun

Alaska's State Flower: Forget-me-nots

Low-tide Exploration

There was a powerful new moon in late June that caused an extremely low tide. It was the perfect time to walk out across the mud and explore tidal pool creatures that are normally protected and unseen.

Flight on a Cessna 206

I had an opportunity to take a flight on a small float plane- the plan was to fly over a mountain range, land on a lake in the wilderness, and see brown bears up close from an observation deck. But the weather conditions were very sketchy and we turned around instead of risking flying through cloud-choked narrow canyons walls. I was happy to land safely, and it was nice to feel close to pops. I kept trying to imagine what he would say about the experience, I can't believe he flew up to Alaska in his own Cessna!

Outdoor Projects

Harvesting at Homer Hilltop Farm

Fourth of July

The Homer fourth of July parade felt just like the small town parades we'd go to as a family in Manitowish Wisconsin as a kid, and it was my favorite holiday (I loved the candy!). Those summers at the cabin are close to my heart, and it made me feel close to dad. I could just imagine the smells of bacon and eggs frying, lake water and pine needles, and early morning dew on daisies. I enjoyed the experience and even picked up a few spare pieces of candy on the road :)