A ½” of virgin, unmarked snow . . . a cool, gentle breeze . . . a pinking hour sunset brushed across distant snowcaps – the wilderness wonder postcard God created for me to glide through before hanging up my skis and heading off to rejoin my life partner in the Great Smoky Mountains tomorrow.
I’ve missed her, and Lord willing, come Spring we’ll return together to the solitude of this awesome corner of creation with its vast wilderness reaches, rugged magnificence, and primal beauty John Muir once called “The Manuscripts of God”.
Happiness is zero degrees and a pair of skis . . . gliding over a wilderness lake, snow whispering beneath, winter’s sun above sinking behind distant mountain monarchs . . . Life is Good! . . . wish you could have joined me.
“He gives snow like wool; He scatter the frost like ashes.” – Psalm147:16
The Land of the Midnight Sun is rapidly entering its Midnight Moon season, as seen in this 4 PM/4-degree wilderness wander picture.
Watching the sun begin to silently slip below the distant Chugach Range conjured a somewhat ambivalent thought of peaceful melancholy . . . this scene is somewhat analogous to my life . . . my Midnight Sun season is slowly slipping below life’s horizon, yielding to the Midnight Moon. But there’s only peace . . . no remorse . . . as I stand alone in the frozen silence.
Life’s joys have been my sunshine, and the dark clouds of failure have taught me the past is a place of reference to grow from, not a place of residence to live in. I’ve been undeservedly blessed beyond measure, and know a Sonrise awaits that will never set.
“NeverthelessI am not ashamed, for I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day”. – II Timothy 1:12
Everyone has a special place of comfort, peace and inner healing their soul calls home. What’s yours?
Living in Alaska, where this morning the temperature begins another day of residence below zero, it’s a question I’ve often been asked, and now sit here pondering before a blazing wood stove.
A myriad of reasons flash to mind . . . the raw, rugged, vast stretches of wilderness . . . the majesty of snow-capped mountain sunrises, and brilliant ocean sunsets . . . abundant, really wild wildlife . . . etc., etc., etc.
Long summer’s calm water’s reflections – longer winter’s frozen landscapes . . . clouds floating on blue skies above – purple fireweed sprouting from the earth below . . . mountain storm rainbows – massive glacier azure-blue ice . . . falling snowflakes. Uncluttered by civilization’s burden of stressful busyness, Creation survives and thrives in the quiet, unhurried power of Silence.
It’s the Last Frontier’s immense SOS . . . Solitude of Silence . . . that soothes and heals my inner being, soul therapy at its best! For many Alaska is a bucket-list tourist destination. For me it’s the place my soul calls home, until He calls me Home.
Albert Einstein once said,”Look deeper into nature and you will understand everything better.” Jesus said it even better . . . “Be still and know that I am God.” – Psalm 46:10
Here’s a couple SOS scenes from yesterday’s wilderness wander along the banks of the Matanuska River.
I attended church twice today. Following this morning’s indoor service, I attended an outdoor service alone, embraced by Nature’s unspeakable, pristine, sub-zero splendor . . . sensing my infinitesimal smallness . . . silently worshiping my omnipotent Creator and keeper of my soul.
“How great Thou art!”
“I would like to have seen the whole world with eyes incapable of anything but wonder, and with a tongue fluent only in praise.” – Pat Conroy
With temps in the teens headed for single digits tonight and sub-zero later this week, it was time for an Alaskan wardrobe change. Unable to find my wet-suit, I decided to forgo testing the lake’s ice thickness 😊
Stay warmand remember . . . there’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.
Today’s wilderness wander found me hiking the Matanuska River Valley. Carving its path over millennia between snow-laden peaks of the Chugach and Talkeetna Ranges, it’s birthed 25 miles upstream in the Matanuska Glacier.
Freezing temps have restricted glacier melt dropping the river’s level dramatically. Summer’s silt-gray turbid flow has been transformed to winter’s clear blue-green . . . today I trekked through a creation postcard of wonder.
“… He leaded me besides still waters. He restoreth my soul…” Psalm 23:2-3