four not five

a quick cheers from another surreal summer in alaska

Jul 02, 2023

The following is serious. It is only meant to make me somewhat delirious*.

Has time been wonky for everybody else these past few years? I kid, that was rhetorical. At best. At worst. At everything.

My point this weekend – besides deep breathing and attempting the semblance of real life – is to personally mark this past June as my fifth in Alaska. That is, until I was talking it out with Jules.

Well, yes, it’s my fifth June. Yeah, it’s practically mid-July already. Almost snowing again. Nonetheless, five summers actually means four full years under my belt. (As if I’d wear a belt. Always make that leggings.)

None the lesser, indeed.

new bike, denali park road / june 26, 2023

The 49th state is a fascinating place to live.

It’s ever-exhausting, perpetually jaw-dropping, complex, brutal, melting, enriching, and wild as can be - and all of those terms can be applied to the land, sea, sky, creatures and us pesky humans.

I’m grateful to be here. Any little write-up would hardly suffice.

So. A quick flow of retrospect:

- continuing to learn, each season, field guides in tow

- having sporadic access to fresh produce, and yet, realizing I’m more at ease & motivated in the kitchen than ever

- adapting to live in the dark for most of the year

- way too much canning (half-kidding, gotta be prepared)

- comprehending camping, and better yet, those midnight sun campfires & fabulously smokey dinners

- wearing a bandana around my neck for function-meets-fashion-meets-function-again (ahem, mosquitos) and more routine plaid than previously imaginable (no longer merely rocking the 90s grunge, nor ‘lower’ Northwestern hipster aesthetics)

- patiently regrowing the half of head I shaved off for years prior, and re-embracing the habitual braids that came before

- pretty much never wearing a bra

- saying farewell to/grieving over the cats of my 20s/30s, and helloooo to “the boys”

- being aptly aware of when the seasons are “bear-spray” appropriate

- moving 3x within the area, including back & forth across the borough in -30(F) below zero and most recently, walking up the block with box after box of cocktail glasses & mugs, precariously avoiding the enormous bull moose brothers intent of chowing down on the willow greens in our shared national park neighborhood

- savoring the natural ambiance, my supportive partner (not to mention the shock & flexibility of going part-time, totally remote & toss in a sourdough side-hustle) and pauses of time, space & sweeping inspiration all around to get writing again, aka starting & keeping this sub’scrap as a place to share words & perspective with anyone who continues to read this far <3

As if this would or could be short & sweet in this day & age.

Gosh, what I really, really mean to say is…

Thanks for sharing this space in your inbox for these ongoing tales & culinary adventures from a third generation new yorker-turned longtime portlander going into her fifth summer in the middle of alaska.