I have meant to say hello all day, but time got away from me, what with the snow, the shoveling, the trip to the DMV to get my Real ID (or try to, more on that another day.) I had planned to say something wise and witty, but instead there was this– and I just love how it happened- and want to show you:

But first, the story behind it. There was fresh snow, maybe four inches (yesterday we had about a foot) when I drove to the pool in the dark before 6 this morning. I have missed these early excursions, busting through the berm from the state plow, following the single track of a fat tire bike (my neighbor Andes on his way to work at the Haines Borough shop), passing sleeping houses, and the few with a light on, usually upstairs. When I got home it was still early, 7:30, and Chip was pedaling above the garage, Papa Bob and the dogs were asleep, so I drank my coffee in the windowseat and read some Irish poetry by W.B. Yeats ( tread softly on my dreams.. peace comes dropping slow… )I was being very present and mindful as my wise friends advise. I even read a blessing by John O’ Donahue and left my phone upstairs somewhere, on purpose– I was feeling pretty good about myself, when I looked up and saw the curl of a  roof-alanche about to let loose, and was so startled.I mean, it was right  there and I didn’t notice at all.

As I write this, it’s nearly 6 pm, and Papa Bob and Chip are watching the news. I cannot look at another image of someone getting “a jab” (as the BBC News says) in the arm. I do smell the shepherd’s pie in the oven (I should call it a hunter’s pie, as it’s made with venison), and outside the wind has now picked up, and the storm is even worse. It’s high tide and the waves are slamming the snow banks, the dogs are on the couch. They don’t like this one bit.

Here too, is a slide show from my trip to town today:

There’s pizza to go at the Alpenglow, and a pool tournament at the Fogcutter Bar in memory of Aaron Nash, I gave his eulogy on a St. Patrick’s Day in the Chilkat Center not that long ago. Five years? Four? It was raining, I know that for sure. March 17 was also his birthday. Aaron was a force of nature. An artist, athlete, surfer, fisherman. Wild man.  His mother brought me flowers in the storm today, but couldn’t stay for tea, as she had an elderly friend out in the car on the road and more daffodils to deliver to Aaron’s friends, to remind us perhaps– as if we could ever forget him?

The library was open (masks recommended still). (Not so much at the Fogcutter). Haines is mostly vaxxed. The teenagers are next, and we have no cases of Covid and haven’t in a while.

Here’s a pause in the drive home, at the top of Cemetery Hill. I was checking to see where the road was.

And finally, back where I belong.

Today Haines had equal daylight and darkness (12 hours)  even though the vernal equinox isn’t until this weekend. I have heard this is called the equilux, the day when light and shadow are balanced.  But to me, there was way more light than dark.  For the first time in a year. I believe it has something to do with embracing the luck of the Irish, the luck of Haines ( I’m almost afraid to jinx it) in dodging the pandemic, and this wonderful, over the top, oddly timed snowstorm  that is so much like our friend Aaron, that it made me laugh out loud.