New Year's Eve 2015 - 2016

Angels' Light on New Year's Eve.

The day started with a bang. Rain blowing in my face as I opened the door under a deeply gray sky. I did a couple of chores outdoors in the rain, but the main job of splitting firewood was going to have to wait. One of the nice things about Bush life, you often can put things off and wait for better weather. It takes some patience.

Then the preciptiation turned to snow and the wind picked up from the southwest, unusual for this hillside where the wind is usually gentle and comes from the southeast. The snow and wind reached blizzard status for a while as I watched and let my thoughts wander.

The other night I had dinner with some friends who have lived this way and one asked me what I do all day. I didn't have a ready answer and mumbled something about firewood. It's difficult to explain

This is the Glassmasters suncatcher

version of the Michael L. Smith photo

that hangs in my window.

all the little putzing chores and repairs I have done – things I put off on weekends when there isn't much time. Today I thought of an example. I have a stained glass image of the angry bluebird. For years it has hung in the window over my desk but at an angle to the window that didn't allow direct sunlight to shine through. Every time I have noticed that angle it irritates me but I have never bothered to do more than turn the picture which swings right back to its original position. Yesterday as I looked at that bird for a minute it hit me that all I had to do was turn the hook it was hanging from to get it into proper position. Easy peasy, now it is oriented properly; all I need is some sunshine to get the full effect. And that's the kind of stuff I have been doing here for a month in addition to gathering firewood and general chores. Oh yeah, there was the great shrew hunt too.

The blizzard finally blew itself out after some pretty strong gusts. It looked like some trees might go down but I didn't hear or see any. There is that question again - yes trees make sounds when they fall whether anyone is around or not.

About then I noticed the angel's light. Not long after that the sky brightened but left the mountain shaded in clouds all day.

Time to head down the hill and split some wood. I did a couple of sleds full and hauled them one at a time up the hill. Unfortunately I couldn't take the wood directly to the pile because the snow on the roof had started to slide. Shortly after I came out in early December I had gone up on the roof and shoveled down the ridge to break that surface tension and cleared above the smoke stack so the snow would not take the pipe with it when it slid.

Each side of the roof is 392 square feet and covered by densely compacted snow at least two feet deep. That adds up to heavy. You don't want to be under the eaves when that lets go. So I had to dump the wood under the porch for the time being rather than take the chance of having a ton or two of snow land on me.

Back down at the chopping block I heard part of the roof slide, about half the uphill side, no help for access to the firewood piles as they are under the downhill eaves. I split a little more wood and hauled it up to the porch and quit to take a nap. Just as I was dozing off the whole downhill side slid. The house actually feels like it jumps a little when that lets go. Very strange feeling, and no fun when you live in earthquake country and don't expect the roof to give up its snow.


So after dozing a little more I went out and stacked the wood. I've barely scratched the surface and what I've already split is about half a cord.

For New Year's Eve dinner I had a New York strip steak, with a small can of peas. That's the first beef I have had since my medical emergency last spring, well, except for the rare 97 percent lean hamburger. So, all good.

That was probably the biggest meal I've had out here this month except for the rack of lamb at Christmas. I fought through the urge to take a nap because I had one more New Year's Eve plan.

In my putzing I came across two full moving boxes loaded with old receipts, cancelled checks (remember them?), tax returns and one badly conceived novel. That seemed perfect for what I had in mind and as a friend said later, it was a great way to send out the old in order to welcome the new.

I had set those aside for a New Year bonfire and about 10 p.m. headed down the hill to the open spot where I often burn stuff. With help from what little remained in an old can of Coleman fuel, I set myself quite a blaze for a while and as I watched, the Northern Lights came out overhead and stayed for maybe half an hour.  At one time three distinct bright green bands stretched from horizon to horizon. And while the moon was behind the mountain here, its light was hitting Denali and at 11 o'clock at night, dark, you could still see the mountain almost 200 miles away.

Very few recollections came to mind from the past year despite the tranquility of the moment. Except for the aforementioned medical event, it was a pretty uneventful year. It closed out with this wonderful month at the East Pole, so that's at least a positive ending as is the fact that there is more firewood under the house now than when I arrived Dec. 1.

But there is this: With Elon Musk in the world and his succes with Space-X completing a round trip into space, I feel very safe in saying, "yeah, baby, let's go for another orbit and ride this rock around the sun one more time."

Angels' Light