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.