January Light

I began my day in the driveway, checking on the bird feeders, listening to the ravens leave their roost, watching the redpolls wake and send out scouts. I love when I can do this. Many days it is too windy, sometimes too cold for this. I even scouted under the power pole for owl pellets. I would really like to find one for Vivi to take apart. She would really enjoy this. Zoey and I did it about this age. She was amazed at how close we came to putting a whole vole together. I found none this morning, darn! I enjoyed the slow progress of the waning half moon while I was out.



The day then turned to piano homework, math lessons, and leaving the mountain for town. Zoey had writing class and both girls had piano. I was reluctant to leave. The town was shrouded in a layer of clouds and fog that started at about 1500 feet and went nearly to the ground. I knew it would be grey and dark in town.



I am sure to most January light is too lean, too watery with too few hours. For me, here in Alaska it is hope. When it is out it is pink, pink, pink. And it is reflected everywhere. In January, you begin to feel the light extending. Every day you gain three or four minutes. It adds up and you truly notice it.



The interplay between the crystalline structure of super cold snow and hoar frost crystals is something I never tire of. These photos are all un-enhanced, not filtered. They are the real deal. The light is just saturated with color.

Soon, too soon, the sunsets.