Tina of Travels and Trifles chose Distance as this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge theme. It’s a theme I can relate to.
Talk about social distancing. I am well over 3,000 miles from my home as I wait out this emergency. There are a lot of us gypsy travelers, far from home, who have had to make difficult decisions as the crisis has unfolded. When confronted with the choice of possibly carrying the virus through many distant communities with extremely limited medical care in both Canada and Alaska to my very remote and vulnerable home, I chose to stay put. But it wasn’t an easy decision.
Home in the Wrangells, where we have lots of space.
I miss being able to go “out there.” My mother, 91 years old, in an assisted living facility with a touch of dementia, can’t leave her room, and it is hard for her to understand why she isn’t allowed to go out, even for a breath of fresh air. Her sacrifice is far more difficult than mine.
Those people working the front lines – medical staff, custodial workers, grocery store employees, care givers, truck drivers, all of those in essential jobs, are making far more difficult sacrifices than those of us sheltering in place. They are risking their very lives every day. To all of you, my eternal gratitude for the sacrifices you are making.
Music is important. Sing, play, dance. It’s good for your soul.
We are all making sacrifices. I’m not alone. We are all in this together.
All the same, I miss home, friends, and family. I find myself already grieving the loved ones I will lose to this virus, even though I don’t know who they are yet. None of us will pass through this trial unscathed.
Get outside, wherever you can. Stay healthy.
But we are fortunate. We live in a time when there are tools that help us feel close to those we love, even if it is from a distance. Can you imagine being in lockdown without the solace of easy communication available in our digital age?
It’s up to us all to help each other weather the storm. Be kind. Be gentle. Be supportive. Be patient with one another. We will all have our bad days before this is through.
Listen to the birds sing.
Don’t let fear and despair, anger and frustration conquer your spirit. Take care of yourself. Get outside if you can, even if it’s just for a walk around the block. Stretch. Eat your fruits and veggies. Listen to the birds sing. Dance. Laugh. Play. Dream. Above all, be grateful. For every little thing.
This too shall pass. It may feel like forever, but it isn’t. And we’re all in this together. There is comfort in that.
I used to embrace the cold. I worked ski resorts in Colorado for 15 years. For ten of those years, I worked at the top of the mountain, at 11,000 feet. I’ve seen some savage storms, and brutal cold.
I spent 10 winters in Alaska. Five of those winters were in the remote Interior rural community of McCarthy. I watched the frost creep up the nails on the inside of the door of the cabin my first winter there, and marveled at the cold, colder than anything I had ever experienced.
The coldest temperature I’ve ever seen was 53 degrees below zero. That’s cold, so cold my thermometer didn’t go that low. I had to call a neighbor with a better thermometer to find out just exactly how cold it was!
I used to embrace the cold when I spent my winters in Alaska.
I USED TO embrace the cold. Then I learned to drive and bought a car. Now I’m a snowbird.
I didn’t get a driver’s license until I was 50. I didn’t want to be part of the problem. I was worried about my carbon footprint long before the term “carbon footprint” was ever coined. I rode bikes, took buses, and lived in communities where you didn’t need a car to get by.
I’m OK with snow, just not on the road.
But in order to get a job promotion with the Park Service, I had to get a driver’s license. It was a prerequisite for the job.
I can definitely correlate my aversion to cold and winter with when I acquired a vehicle. I just don’t want to drive icy roads in nasty weather!
This is why I don’t do winter anymore!
I’ve decided I’ve seen enough cold. There’s a lot of beautiful places to see in this world, and they’re not ALL cold & snowy in the winter.
But there are things about winter, and the cold, that I miss. The beauty. The serenity. The quiet. Sun sparkling on the snow. Snowshoeing. Most of all, the northern lights.
There ARE things about winter that I miss.
So, occasionally, I treat myself to the tiniest taste of winter. I just make sure I have an escape route or the luxury of waiting for a good weather window so I can get out without driving those icy roads.
I needed to travel across practically the entire state of Colorado this past weekend as I transitioned from visiting my family to my next housesitting gig. I was lucky. I hit the perfect weather window, with a big storm in the mountains Wednesday to Friday, then a bluebird weekend for travel before the next front came through on Monday.
On my way down from visiting my family in Denver, I stopped at the Great Sand Dunes. It was cold. The wind was bitter. But it was beautiful.
I’m in southwestern Colorado now, Durango to be exact. Although I am in the mountains, the desert and relief from snowy roads is less than an hour away.
Durango isn’t big, but it is a bit bigger than I usually like my towns to be. I’ve gotten a little lost a time or two. I’m surprised at how much I enjoy it. Although the desert is close, Durango is definitely a mountain town, vertical topography rising in every direction. The wild is still close. Driving down an urban street in the heart of town, you see deer strolling the sidewalks like they own them. I like that.
Durango is beautiful.
It’s snowing on this Thanksgiving day, but it’s a gentle snowfall, not a raging blizzard. It isn’t even sticking to the driveway, although the frosting on the trees is very pretty. It IS cold, though. BRRRRRR!!
Since it is Thanksgiving, I’m pondering gratitude and the many things I am grateful for. Throughout this year I’ve been more consciously grateful, on a day-to-day basis, than ever before in my life. I’m thankful for my many blessings.
COLD waterfall
I’m thankful for my family and the time I’ve been able to spend with them recently. I’m thankful that my mother, although quite fragile at 91, is still with us. I’m thankful for my home in McCarthy and the amazing community there that I am privileged to be a part of. I’m thankful for work that I enjoy and that I feel is important.
I’m thankful for my many friends, wherever they are in this wide world. I’m thankful for the freedom that allows me to travel and see more of this amazing planet we all share. I’m thankful that my little Toyota truck is still going strong at 285,000 miles and I hope it continues to treat me right.
Just a tiny taste of cold…
I’m thankful I have food to eat and clothes to keep me warm. I’m thankful for wine and chocolate – oh, and raspberries. Can’t forget raspberries.
I’m thankful for the shelter that keeps me out of the cold. And I’m thankful for the cold – the little bit of cold I’m getting a taste of right now – because it will make the warmth that much sweeter later. What I’m especially thankful for, though, on this snowy Thanksgiving weekend, is that I don’t have to drive any treacherous icy roads today!
