Spring has sprung. Not, so much, in the sense that green things are actually appearing — but that will come. For now, spring is manifest in the absolute surplus of sunshine and just-barely-above-freezing temperatures. (Who knew that a sunny 40 degrees could feel like 75?)
And with the changing of the seasons, I’m reminded of the ever-transient nature of life this close to the Arctic Circle. Life in Nome is nothing if not extreme. In the winter, the darkness is deep and steady, like a layer of ink spread across the landscape. The snow is crisp and seemingly endless — a virtual moonscape in which the sky and sea and land all blend together in nearly indistinguishable shades of grey.
These are the images that National Geographic thrives on: Frozen peaks melting into frozen tundra melting into frozen sea. But just as magical (and far less photographed) is the muddy, messy, melting pot of springtime. In just two days, the snow and ice that encased Nome all winter have suddenly given way — revealing the murky, slimy soil that’s been hiding beneath our feet this entire time.
I’ve always enjoyed the term “break-up season,” as it applies to spring here. Something about that phrase implies that more than simply sea ice is shaking loose with each impulsive turn of mood and weather. It’s easy to picture Mother Nature shaking out the rugs and opening the windows in her own manic bouts of spring-cleaning.
I think I’ve settled on this image, because it mirrors my own approach to spring time. As the world returns from its deep hibernation, the process isn’t an immediate or graceful one. The world outside thaws in rapid fits — the snow melts in a matter of hours, only to refreeze over night. The progress is halted and frustrating to watch; two steps back for every three steps forward.
But that process rings true for me, as it applies to all growth. And as I emerge from my own winter hibernation, I’m reminded by the beautiful mess outside my window to enjoy the journey — with all its jerks and bumps — because soon there will be no snow or mud at all, and another process of change will be upon us.
