THE PERFECT DAY

It’s light now for more than 12 hours a day.  The sun rises above the icy horizon not long after 8 am, is still radiating its brightness now, at 8 pm and will set sometime after 9 pm tonight.  The days are getting increasingly long, motivating me to create a dark place in my apartment for sound sleep during the summer when the sun is up 24 hours a day.  My blackout curtains last year didn’t prevent bright beams of sun from shining around their edges into my bedroom all through the night creating the illusion that it was midday.  I continually felt as though I should be up and being productive, making the most of the lightness, so consequently didn’t feel rested for most of the summer. 

Foiling my windows prevents one from seeing out during the day, so plan B is developing this year.  My apartment has a wonderful room in the hallway that works well as a library for me with two tall bookshelves and a place to sit and enjoy reading or praying.  My thought is to move one of the shelves to the same wall as the other, creating a long space for my two extra thick and comfortable sleeping pads.  This would allow the door to close and help me to feel as though it’s alright to wind down and sleep (and my prayers will have been answered). 

I’ve talked with other people here who have the same sort of experience with the sun and many, like me, are anxious for it to set below the horizon again in the fall, for the days to become shorter, and to feel soothed by the darkness again.  It might be that when it’s light here, it’s very light.  The sun reflects brightly off of the snow and ice and there are no trees or hills to create shadows even after the snow melts.  Someone described it as being interrogated endlessly by the sun.  I would have never believed that I’d feel the same way, but by the end of the summer, those are my sentiments as well.  The sun and all that it illuminates is beautiful—breathtaking really, but the contrasting darkness is welcome when it finally comes. 

Winter is definitely my favorite time of year, now in particular, although it technically transitioned into Spring several days ago.  The snow is still on the ground for at least another month and a half making perfect conditions for cross country skiing, long walks on Saturday afternoons and bike rides without the complications of muddy roads.  It’s still cold and windy at times with most days having wind chill factors of below zero although if one is out and active, body heat overcomes any sense of coldness fairly quickly.

There are many acronyms used here in Barrow for organizations and facilities.  On 

Saturday afternoon I walked to what used to be called NARL, the Navel Arctic Research Lab and BASC.  It transitioned into being called BASC, the Barrow Arctic Science Consortium and is now called BARC, Barrow Arctic Research Consortium.  In any case, it’s a wonderful place to visit and learn about the research taking place in Barrow as well as to listen to talks about a variety of subjects.  I passed a tall snowman topped off with a tire hat in front of a house near my apartment and then took the road along the beach some four miles from where I live.  The Quonset huts in the photos house several of the programs offered by Ilisagvik College near BARC.  I lost my way after passing them, unfamiliar with the roads there.  My last leg included a trek over deep hard crusted snow with BASC in the distance.  I was grateful for the unintentional detour and that the snow was easy to walk on.  It was a beautiful route and sun glasses a must.

I sat next to Julie, a woman who is in a supervisory position in the Health Department.  I’ve always enjoyed our conversations discussing books we’ve read, topics in public health nursing, life in Barrow as well as a variety of other interesting subjects.  She asked if I had gotten cross country skis yet and although they’ve been on my shopping list, I had to respond that I hadn’t.  She said that she’d recently been to the Wellness Center, the clinic where I work and where some of the programs she supervises are housed, and saw a pair of cross country skis along with boots and poles behind her assistant’s door.  It turns out that a nurse who worked at the clinic left them when she moved eight years ago and didn’t respond to communications about having them sent to her at her new location.  Julie had rented a car for the day, so suggested that after driving to “the point” (Point Barrow) and out along Cake Eater Road to look for Caribou, that we stop by the Wellness Center and see if the skis, boots and poles would work for me. 

The afternoon was a wonderful one with Julie’s good company and a chance to see areas that are not easy to get to on foot or bicycle because of their distance from Barrow.  We drove as far to the NE as possible until the road ended, blocked by snow, now allowing us to reach the point this time.  We saw small groups of caribou on the snow covered tundra to the south, some striking their hooves against the surface in order to reach some of last year’s ground cover that might provide a meal.  Julie shared her binoculars and I felt a sense of awe seeing them from such a short distance.  I have a memory of flying over the tundra and seeing a running herd when I was young, possibly on the flight up to Barrow with my Dad years ago, but it’s a distant image in my mind now.  I wish I had been able to get some closer shots with my camera.  Those really are caribou in the next four photos.

We picked up another public health nurse, Joanne, who itinerates as needed from Fairbanks and drove in the opposite direction as far as the gravel pit west of Barrow where the barges anchor in August and tender all of the supplies they've carried up from Washington and maybe ports further south to the residents and businesses in Barrow.  More good conversation and the development of plans for a potluck at my apartment that evening developed.    

We stopped at the Wellness Center on the way back.  I entered with skis, poles and boots still on my shopping list and emerged happily with a very new-looking pair of waxless Fischer skis with Salomon bindings, poles and Vitane boots that fit perfectly over my lighter pair of wool socks.  Julie insisted that I make good use of them…that they were far better off being used than standing behind a door for another eight years. 

Smoked salmon from the Kenai River for an appetizer, salmon baked in coconut oil and lime juice caught in Chitna, a large green salad, vegetables, dip, hot tea, lemon popsicles for dessert, good company and thoughts of cross country skiing in the sun on Sunday ended a perfectly wonderful day.