I live and write on Lingít Aaní, and gratefully acknowledge the past, present and future caretakers of this beautiful place, the Jilkaat Kwaan and Jilkoot Kwaan.

“Every day, God brings up the sun so we feel warmth, circulates the air so we can breathe, brings rain so that we have water to drink and in return asks us essentially for just two things: First, a little gratitude, and second to spread the love.”—Clark Warner, Marsh Chapel Boston University

9: 30 am. Tuesday, Dec. 19. 23 degrees. The weather service says the north wind is blowing 14-23 mph and the skies are fair. Fair? They are fabulous!

Sunrise was at 8:56 and sunset is 3:03. That’s six hours and seven minutes of twilight, basically. The hour we walked in real sun—the low bright kind, shining from waist level– well that made my day. Set me on the proper path. I dare say the sun this morning is a blessing— as in the world is wishing you fair skies and following seas. (Better than one of those ‘the sea is so big and my boat is so small, have mercy on us all,’ kind of days.) We made the shadows dance.

Can you tell I’m feeling better today? I mailed a package to Juneau on Seaplanes, since with the fine weather window they are flying. There were poinsettias at the grocery store.  The fresh flowers came up on the barge and survived the trip looking remarkably well, so I bought one. It was the least I could do.  A daughter and grandkids ferry up tomorrow, and Chip just lit the fire in the little house to warm it up for them.

Green grass is odd, but there is some snow in the forecast, so we will see. But you know what?  I’d rather have a happy Christmas than a white one. It can pour rain now that I’m counting heads for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day dinners, finally have a turkey– and it is thawing in the extra fridge in the garage. (Here’s hoping the bears are taking their long winter naps.)