Gorgeous Hoarfrost, then Minus 19 F in Alaska

Hoar frost on a spruce

Each season here brings distinctive beauties and challenges.  Winter is no exception.  Down to about zero degrees F, I enjoy walks along the lake and in the woods, noticing things: the few highbush cranberries that cling tenaciously to their slim threads; wind blowing snow south along the lake, building dunes and digging swales; the sound of changing textures of snow as we walk; the blue shadows of trees; animal tracks of both herbivores and their hunters; the scent of wood smoke emanating from our chimneys.

My favorite winter view is of white snow coating black branches, and my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE winter image is of hoar frost on everything, from vegetation to metal and wood.   To me, this winter formation is nothing short of stunning.

Hoar frost is not like ice.  It is amazingly delicate ice needles that encircle branches (and other surfaces).  It is particularly beautiful because it is so fragile and transitory.  It forms only in cold, still weather when moist air, like ice fog, moves in and coats surfaces.  Warm sun, strong wind, heavy snow or sleet destroys it.  This December, conditions were such that we enjoyed an unprecedented  winter wonderland of hoar frost for 10 days.   What a gorgeous Christmas present!

Below 0 F, I am not as enthused about outdoor chores or outings by snowshoe  or snowmachine.  Even higher temperatures with high winds are tough.  Plenty of Alaskans are hardier than I, including my husband.  We do have appropriate clothes to layer on, but my eyes tear up somewhere below -15 F, which is not a good thing, and my face stings, especially when wind blows tiny crystals of snow that hit like grains of sand.  One recent day, the temperature was +7 F but the strong winds delivered a wind chill of -20 to -30 F, according to www.weather.com hazard alerts.  The wind slipped through any crack or crevice in the log walls of our cabin, dropping night time temperatures to the low 50s, despite a robust fire. Bryan slept with a cap on, like Ebenezer Scrooge.  We both wore bed socks.

Covered trees at lake edge.

Today, our two outdoor thermometers read minus 19 F and minus 25 F, but  no wind (so it is warmer and cozier inside).  To go outside, I layer up in quilted overalls over pants and under a parka, with my warmest mittens and hat, to quickly feed the hens, gather food from the food shed, empty the indoor commode, and ignite the wood fired outdoor hot tub with hot ashes from the wood stove inside.  On windless day, even at these temperatures, we do enjoy a piping hot soak, although my hair freezes into a Medusa-like helmet very quickly.  The short walk along the back deck is as quick as it can be, and I dare not touch a wet hand to the metal door handle on return.

Yes, our winters are long and dark.  The sun lies low in the Latitude 61 sky this time of year, and arcs around a meager third of it, from SE to SW.  Except during snow storms, for several weeks on either side of the winter solstice, we have enough ambient light to do morning chores at 9, but we do not see an orange sunrise until 10.  In the afternoons, the sun dips below our western mountains between 3 and 3:30 pm followed by a lovely hour of pink and purple.    

Attuned to the sky’s schedule, we eat breakfast at 9 and dinner at 3:30, with a snack later.

I initially worried whether the long dark season would bother me (the possibility of Seasonal Affective Disorder or SAD).  Even my husband found the long, gray winters at his upstate New York college depressing.  However, neither of us is bothered by that here.  Is it the sunnier and dryer winter weather?  Or the fun and necessary projects we save up to do during the winter months? Winter is a time to linger in bed, read thick novels, take on-line classes, work on hobbies and indoor projects, and of course, to make snow ice cream.

A few of my on-line activities:

Beautiful day!

*   Mini-Med School: I always enjoy two months of fascinating and well prepared lectures for lay people, offered by my alma mater, Washington University in St. Louis. https://minimed.wustl.edu/ (250+ students from 26 states/countries participate in sessions scheduled in early and late winter).  Hats off to the fantastic coordinator, Dr. Cynthia Wychelman!

*   Wilderness Emergency Care: I have recently embarked on an on-line class offered by www.soloschools.com in NH, to be followed this summer by a weekend of hands-on training by an affiliate here in Alaska. 

*   Herbalism:  I continue learning about edible and medicinal plants from www.theherbalacademy.com of MA.  This school offers the most visually arresting, beautiful on-line courses I have ever enjoyed, with quickly responsive teachers.  

*   Weather spotting:  This year, I have also volunteered to be a “weather spotter” for this part of Alaska, since NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric something) has so few data points in the remote area where we live.  Some poor, bottom-of-the-totem pole employee actually called me at home on the Sunday after Christmas to ask for our experience during a storm!  How is that for weather service!     https://www.weather.gov/pdt/spotterTraining

Backyard trail

My view is that boredom is a personal failure.  If I feel any creeping up, it means that I need to find something practical, enlightening, kind, or challenging to do.  

RECIPE:  Snow ice cream

After most new snow fall, I take a huge metal bowl outside and scoop up some fresh, clean snow.  Inside, I mix it with a can of sweetened condensed milk and flavor it, as desired, with unsweetened cocoa, or vanilla, or berries I canned from last summer.  The result is like an ice milk in texture.  The proportions vary depending on whether the snow is dry and light or dense and wet.  But in general, one can of condensed milk mixes with 8 - 12 cups of snow.  This would be especially fun to do with children, I would think.

Winter Animal Tracks + Recipe Saskatoon Pancakes

One of my favorite things to do in winter is to observe and follow animal tracks I find on walks around our property or along woodland trails. No bears sign of course - they are hibernating. Nor do we see moose until mid-winter. I imagine that those huge animals prefer to linger close to the open water of creeks and rivers until they freeze over. After that, they lumber through the deep snow to our vicinity and yank pitifully at birch and cranberry branches for a few calories, and then curl up out of the cold, northern wind. (If there is reincarnation, I do not want to be reborn as a 1600 lb herbivore in the arctic!!!) 

 

The tracks we see most often are the dog-like footprints of coyotes, the big cushioned feet of hares, the narrow tread of martens and slimmer still of weasels (to which they are related). The latter is distinguished by an accompanying tail swipe between the legs. By the length of the stride, we can tell if the animals are strolling or running. Rarely do I see the tracks of voles (small meadow mice) because they burrow under the snow all winter, leaving telltale swales in the spring mud. However, this month, our snow is so shallow (maybe 2-3 inches) that I see their little foot impressions, complete with perfectly defined tiny toes. Their tracks run back and forth across short, exposed distances between tree stumps and the fluffy, insulating tents of dead fern fronds. I also see the tracks of their predators overlaying their own, presumably some hours later. Fast and quiet martens and weasels like the caverns beneath tree trunks, too.

 

Sometimes we catch a peripheral glimpse of a speedy and lithe white weasel or a black marten. These wily predators can sniff or hear the creatures beneath the snow. I have watched a marten run across a field, stop, approach slowly, and then leap into the air to dive into some sub-nivean nest for dinner. With one in his sharp teeth, he trots off for a quiet meal. I also see ravens fly, dive, and then fly off with something dark in their beak. The bottom of the food chain is a vulnerable place to be. 

Moose last winter

 

Only once have I seen a blood trail. If I interpreted the ground signs correctly, an eagle swooped down to grab a hare just before it dived under a tree. The talons drew blood of some volume that pooled at the base of the tree, and then spotted the snow in a linear pattern as the bird lifted off. We found no body in the vicinity. All of this “dog eat dog” world transpires during the summer, too, of course, but it is hidden in the verdant, fast growing landscape. It is winter when I ruminate over clear reminders of the vulnerability of life – for us and other creatures - water, food, warmth, and safety. 

 

Recipe: Saskatoon Pancakes 

1/2 cup each of corn meal, oatmeal, white or wheat flour. 

1 cup sour dough starter or buttermilk or milk "soured" with a tablespoon of vinegar or lemon juice. 

Add water to adjust texture for thick or thin pancakes. 

1 cup of saskatoon berries (fresh in summer or frozen in winter) or blueberries 

4 teaspoons baking powder 

3 Tablespoons melted bacon grease, butter or oil

 3 Tablespoons sugar or honey

1 egg

Combine. Cook on a medium high, greased griddle. Extra oil or bacon grease will yield lacy, crispy edges. We serve this with homemade rhubarb syrup or honey, but any syrup or molasses is tasty.