Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Ups and downs (but not mushing-related)

As the promise of spring begins to peek out from underneath our blanket of snow, I can't help but be a little inspired to be more active and ambitious.  I think it must be a natural reaction to the increase in the amount of light that we experience at this time of the year, when we gain almost six minutes of light with each passing day. My drive to work now gives me a front row seat to the gorgeous salmon pinks and melon oranges of an Alaskan sunrise; my drive home bathes me in an amber glow as I head West into the sun.  Sometimes I can't help but close my eyes and smile as I soak up the sun on my face.  (Don't worry, I don't do this while I'm driving!)
There's a glimmer of hope that accompanies this time of year and it makes me a little antsy both in mind and body.  I am itching to get outside and walk and jog with my dogs, but the streets and trails aren't always cooperative, as there is still much slippery ice out there.  My mind rambles with intentions for the coming spring and summer and I am a little inspired to begin making plans.  Yes, perhaps there are some visions of grandeur there as I think about the hikes I'd like to take, the bike ride in Denali National Park that I'm planning, and the fishing trips that I hope we'll be able to take with friends. 
Beyond the athletic activities, there's a thirst for mental stimulation after the long and dark winter.  I frequently make visits to the Chugiak / Eagle River Library and it's almost as good as taking a trip to Alaska Wild Berry :)  I have trouble deciding which few books to check out, so I usually end up checking out a large stack of them.  Could I polish up my Spanish this summer, so Sandra and I can continue our chats when we visit?  Could I manage to learn some German?  What about brushing up on my American History and my yoga?  Check.  Those are all in the works, but we'll see how many of them really play out.  I always begin with the best of intentions.
Juxtaposing the excitement I feel about the changing of the seasons, there's a little bit of a feeling of let-down now that the Iditarod is over.  For a week and a half, I was constantly glued to the computer, checking standings, progress, blogs, insider information and photos of the action on the trail.  Now that Deborah Bicknell finished as the red lantern, there's no more Iditarod news.  The burled arch has been removed, the snow has been scraped from the streets in Nome, and the world has moved on.  (Well, maybe everyone except for Lance Mackey.  If I were him, I'd still be celebrating my win!!)  I feel like there's a bit of a hole where the Iditarod's a bit sad, frankly.  But I suppose it gives me something to look forward to next year.
And so life goes on for all...


Anonymous said...

hey, we are going fishing this year for sure.....and catch a nice fish for the dogs.....and laugh and drink margaritas......

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