Tonight's Sunmelt--Darkness Approaches

I know I should be updating you with all of the adventure's we've had recently, but they're just not ready yet. I'm still drafting away, and for some reason they're just not flowing very well for me. Here's something that did, and I thought I'd share. I promise more updates soon!
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The sleeping lady emerged tonight from her thick veil of clouds just in time for sunset. Tonight was less of a sunset, and more of a sunmelt. The clouds in the heavy, overcast sky made just a little room for the sun's setting rays to leak through from behind. The landscape brightened in that steely light, and then the light began to simply melt away. The glassy smooth inlet refelected the icy still colors: sleepy grey, slow but bold blue, pristine white, solid iron--and the faintest hint of rosy gold tint to everything. A warm cold if you can imagine; the fire waiting for you back home out of the cold. Winter's approach infuses the air. I'm not saying it's cold, but there's a definite chill behind it all. Everything is ready--the fireweed, the leaves, even the mountains. The sky started to trickle rain as the sun left our corner of the earth, and the landscape greyed gently into night--an artists loosely sketching charcoal over it all.

The dark is coming--I can feel it in my bones. Part of me digs my heels in and throws a fit--wants those long lazy warm days of gentle and endless light to last on and on. But I know it's because we don't want to face the dark that causes most of our pain. The dark and cold will come whether we want it to or not. It is as much a part of this life as the sun and warmth. The other part of me is going to embrace the dark--be present in every moment. It's going to live fully right on through it. It won't let that frigid blackness stop me from going outside, from moving and living, from staying in shape, or from gleaning insight from it all. All the more to live, to find and keep my own light and warmth burning bright, right? and just when the deepest, darkest black descends, well it's then I'll know that we'll be headed back into the light.

4th of July in Seldovia (a belated report)

Pictured above: Kachemak Bay from the air, Jen and sea otter in Seldovia Bay, Halibut coming in!, Jen with Seldovia Harbor behind her, Matt (far left) rocking the survival suit relay.

. . . and so every week we would say to each other, “We should update the blog today”, and “Yes, we really should”. All the while we were thinking to ourselves the matter was concluded, the task delegated, end scene. Many apologies to our loyal followers for the month hiatus. We’ve had quite a busy month indeed, which may explain the lack of time to post updates. We’ll break up the posts to keep you all on baited breath, and so we don’t have to type so much. Also, names have been changed to protect the innocent. So, here is the first installment of what we’ve been up to…

When last we left our intrepid duo they were gearing up for a Forth of July holiday weekend in Seldovia. One of my coworkers grew up there and we were invited along with some others to delight in new experiences in a place only reachable by boat or plane. We were to meet everyone in Homer for a lovely boat ride across Katchemak Bay. The weather for the crossing was lovely, but haze likely stole some magnificent views. Captain Jane (my coworker, whose first name is not Jane or Captain) docked her father’s boat in the Seldovia Harbor 45 minutes after leaving Homer and we hoofed it the two blocks to her parents’ delightful guesthouse. We were sharing the space with another coworker and his girlfriend. The Seldovia festivities had begun earlier that day (July 3rd) and we went down to hear some local musicians and get a tour of the ‘burg. Jen and I were instantly in love with this town of about 300 people and knew we were going to have to visit many more times. Our final stop on the tour was at the Inside Beach, where several bald eagles were enjoying the surf and sun. Back at la casa Jane’s parents shared some of their astonishingly good salmon that I’m sure they caught right outside their door.

We had a blast on the Forth, even without fireworks (yes, it stays light out far too late for fireworks). We all had the pancake breakfast at the fire department, watched quintessential small town parade (complete with a float for the Town Crab (old stodgier grump of the Year winner) and oh so much more. After lunch we watched the canoe jousting tournament before cheering one of our traveling companions into the semi-finals of the log rolling competition. And the fun was just beginning. Tug of war and the egg toss were just warm-ups to the survival suit race and the fish toss (yes, this really was gross). No rest for us after dinner though, as Jane’s dad took us out in his boat out for some halibut fishing. We set the hooks and then called it a day…a really fun day.

Sunday, the last day of our stay, arrived none too welcome as Jen and I were really enjoying this trip. Back out with Jane’s dad to check the line for halibut. It looked like all we would pull up were some monstrous skate until finally Jane’s dad hauls in a beautiful 25-pound halibut (Jen was instrumental in bringing in this fish as well because of her awesome halibut dance when we set the line). What a wonderful experience, and we continue to be thankful for their hospitality and generosity. Our final activity before leaving was my favorite, a sea-kayaking trip up Seldovia Bay to take in more of the majestic country. The waters of the bay met pebble beach and then spruce forest that rolled up into the mountains. On our way back in we paddled right up to a sea otter. The trip couldn’t have ended any better. We took the plane back to Homer, so it only took 15 minutes. And just like that, our weekend in Seldovia was a memory. You better believe we’re going back soon.

Ok, ok, I know this was just a list of facts, a simple retelling of our trip. No poetry, no metaphors, no exquisite language to paint the scene. Well, you’ve simply come to the wrong blog writer for that (although I am married to one). What I can tell you is that Jen and I saw something in Seldovia that we wished we could have seen more of in all of our travels. We saw people simply enjoying life, letting outsiders view that life without feeling the need to be something different. We took joy in seeing our friend Jane so completely in her element and taking absolute and deserved pride in sharing it with us. We felt lucky to have glimpsed this corner of the world.