'Tis This Special Season

'Tis that special part of the year in Alaska when summer is over yet it's not yet white and bitter outside. The time when wearing a short sleeved shirt after 7pm is just not a good idea. The time when an umbrella is used not for keeping off the rain, but to defer the tsunami-like waves created by passing motorists as they -VROOM! SPLOOSH!- drive by as one waits for the People Mover (city bus). Welcome to Anchorage, the city of 4 seasons: Almost Winter (when we're rained on every other day), Winter (self explanatory), Breakup (when everything is melting), and Construction (it's so bad our city mascot ought to be an orange traffic cone).

As you can see in the photo, almost winter resembles what those in the Lower 48 refer to as "fall" or "autumn". Key word: RESEMBLES. That means it's not the same, but it seems similar. Yes, our leaves change color. -Ding!- One point for similarity. And they fall off the trees. -Ding!- And the weather gets rainy, windy, and hurricane-y. -Ding!-

HOWEVER.

Almost winter is not conducive to running around barefoot in fallen leaves. It doesn't quite make my spine tingle like red maple tree leaves do (we can't grow maples up here). It doesn't smell like fall. It smells like dust until someone mows their grass, then it smells dang good. Almost winter doesn't allow one to comfortably spend extended time outside to take a nap, study, or read a book (I was very good at this in Utah and Maryland... well the nap part). Outdoor projector movies are out of the question. So are outdoor dances. I put on a sweatshirt to check the mail in case a neighbor passes by and wants to talk, keeping me out there longer than a quick sprint to the mailbox. Early morning walks have changed from pleasant and relaxing to frigid and too dark to walk without the accompaniment of a rottweiler. Our electrical storms are- wait, we don't have electrical storms (well, unless you include the kamikaze squirrels who chomp on the power lines).

Not that I'm bitter or anything, I love it here in Alaska. It's just that this time of the year has presented a small problem inside me.

I miss fall.

A good drive

Mom was trying to take photos from the car when we drove from Maryland to Upstate New York last month. Here we see Mike (my dashboard turtle), very little traffic, and a gross grey sky that followed us the whole way up.

I miss driving out East. There's a thrill in bookin' it around the DC Beltway that one just can't replace up here in Alaska.

I did drive the Glen highway out to a friend's wedding reception this last Saturday. I was probably too excited for my own good... my thrills came from merging on and exiting off the highway. With windows down and a big smile on my face, I'm sure the drivers around me thought I was looney. Despite the fact that it was the closest thing thusfar to driving in Maryland/DC area... it was child's play. Look up traffic in the dictionary and you'll find two pictures of the DC Beltway; one of rush hour when you can literally get out of your car and wait, and the other of the same sretch when there's so little traffic you truly feel a rush of freedom as you fly over the pavement.

The trip up to New York was more than about driving up there. It was a trip to visit my mother's family. Friends, this is my Grandma Joan. Oh yeah, and that's me with her.

We haven't been close in distance ever, which puts a cramp on a tight relationship. She's internet savvy now and we enjoy emailing back and forth. I've been out to New York only twice before this trip, so you can see how important this visit was. The first time I was 3 years old and with my mother. The second time I was 15 and turning 16 in a couple months, the trip was a gift from my parents. Last month, seven years later, there I was. I do hope it doesn't take another seven years for me to get my butt out to see family again. It was a good visit, and I'd like one like it to happen again before people start dying on me.

More introductions and stories will come as I develop my film. :)