"Ms Heidi, it's getting dark outside."
This is the topic of conversation at school everyday. How dark it is. We go to school in the dark. We go home in the dark. My classroom has a variety of colored lights strung around the room.
There are blue lights by the door, stars above the whiteboard, red and white lights near the front of the room, multicolored lights around the large windows and blue and white snowflakes by my desk. The small table lamp throws a soft and gentle light for reading during our SSR time after recess. The large floor lamp, with it's 5 long arms bending every which way cast shadows on the floor and walls; great for shadow puppets. The kids stare in wonder and amazement at the lava lamp in the window. Eyes watching as the "lava" gloops make their way up, collide, cool and then drop back down, only to repeat the cycle.
I love this time of year. The dark The cold. The DARKNESS! Yes, I love the dark. I love the drama of light this time of year. How the sky is on fire and is quickly extinguished as the sun dips below the horizon. How the clouds look like cotton candy, soft colors of pastel, hanging above the pink lemonade mountains. Dancing with our moon shadows on those full moon nights as we glide down the trail, with the moon lighting our way. The winter world is a mysterious world that is best observed from the back of a dog team.
December is a time of darkness. It is also a time of light, accentuated by the cold.
For mushers, it's a time of batteries, chargers, headlamps and cords. Oh those damn cords!
The headlamp season is upon us. The time of year when we grow a third glowing eye, right in the center of our forehead. These "third eyes" come in a variety of colors and brightness. Red, green, shades of blue, bright white and dim yellow. And like two cars meeting on the road, mushers too must dim their lights when encountering another person or else blind them. Walk into any musher's house and you are sure to see headlamps hung, slung and forgotten in every nook and cranny in the house. You never know when you're going to need one, so you had better be ready. Chargers are plugged into available outlets, along side the iPod and mobile phone; cords creating a tangled web of wires (oh those damn cords!). On their person at any given time, you will find no less than 2 headlamps stuff into pockets and askew on heads. Mushers look like some kind of droid, with cords and plugs going every which way from random pockets deep in the thick layers in an attempt to keep the batteries warm and emitting energy to keep those ever important headlamps glowing.
Running dogs at night with a headlamp changes the experience completely. Not only is there limited visibility, the light cuts through the darkness like a light saber. Where you look, there shall be light. With every turn the headlamp shreds the darkness, no match for the thousands of lumens strapped to the musher's head. Running at night during a snowstorm is a lot like being in a
Star Wars movie. The Kid would always
sing the Star Wars Theme Song when we were out in a storm. I find the tune bouncing around in my head from time to time as we make our way through the thousands of little flakes coming at my face.
In cold temperatures, frost glistens and glows like a million eyes, watching you as you make your way down the trail. Sometimes, what you think is frost, are really a set of eyes. Our trail system is home to wolves, lynx, caribou, moose and coyotes. It isn't unusual to see a pair of eyes glowing bright in your headlamp as you trot past.
Winter in Alaska is a magical time.
Some of these pics are of poor quality due to the darkness, but I hope that you enjoy taking a sneak peak into the winter world from the warmth of your house.
Happy Winter!!
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| Tozi and Siscu silhouetted by a light plant at the Chistochina checkpoint in the 2010 Copper Basin 300 |
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| You know the Star Wars theme song is going through your head right now |
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| Third eye glowing bright, lighting the way home |
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| Snow lit up by the flash of the camera. |
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| Eyes, watching my every move. |
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| A bright blue bird day makes the white snow seem to glow. |
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| Drying gear off at the tent camp. Headlamp lights the tent. |
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| The tent is quickly in the shadows as the sun starts to dip down for the day. |
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| Inside the tent, the sun lights it up, no need for a headlamp yet. |
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| The colors of the sky and the snow as the sun sets is stunning. |
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| Snow covered trees highlighted by the rising sun. |
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| The sun sets, making everything orange and purple. |
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| This time of year, we get a double sun rise. The sun rises to the left of Mt Sanford, skirts behind it, the pops out again on the right (seen here). The sun is not very high in the sky this time of year, making this a special event to witness. |
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| Mushing off into the sunset. |
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| Obviously, not from a dog team, but I love how the light and the fog from the Chistochina River play together. It was -45F during this sunset after school. |
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| Sunset at -45F on my way home from school. |
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| Sun dogs |
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| The arctic oven as seen from the outside, lit up with 2 headlamps. |
