June 16, 2005
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Greener
My neighborhood is greener than I’ve ever seen it. It’s buggier than anyone has seen it, too. The early thaw and frequent rain has brought us the biggest infestation of insects in living memory. Most noticeable for the last few weeks are the mosquitoes and some black and white moths. Thousands of moths take to the air from the moist ground outside my door when I step outside.
There are lots of wasps, too. One night on a midnight trip to the bathroom (not the outhouse, the actual but nonfunctional [except when I hang my camp shower bag in the shower stall] indoor bathroom), I heard a wasp buzzing, but didn’t see it. A brief search revealed a paper wasp nest the size of a golf ball hanging on the ceiling. I removed it.
The infestation of leaf miners in the quaking aspens that I noticed last summer has increased in this area and has spread so much that it made the news in the Anchorage papers and on broadcast media.
The water level in the muskeg is subsiding. Around the edges, some swamp grass is emerging above the surface. I got pics of that this morning and will post them along with the other shots, dating back to when there was still ice on the muskeg and it was flooding over the edge of the road, when I get my new computer fixed. Tadpoles have begun showing the little bumps that will become legs.
Yesterday, I saw my first dragonfly of the season. Now the violet-green swallows will have some help to reduce the mosquito population. A few of the big yellow and black butterflies (“painted lady” butterflies? I’ll have to get out my field guide and relieve my ignorance or refresh my knowledge.) have emerged.
The waterfowl have apparently already mated and settled down. I haven’t heard much from the cranes, swans, loons and geese lately. An American robin was hopping around on the woodpile yesterday, happily gorging on bugs.
I’m in the midst of an auto-immune flareup: aching joints, stiff neck, chills and fever, swollen lymph nodes, etc. I can only imagine the havoc going on beneath my awareness, the bone resorption and all the rest. I’m grateful for the years of experience and my knowledge of the mechanisms involved here. Otherwise this shit would scare me to death.
There are those who say the ME/CFIDS syndrome doesn’t kill. That’s not entirely accurate, I think, because there are some symptoms such as dyspnea that if untreated can stop one’s breathing, which is usually fatal. However, the fear and the pain has led many to suicide, and the drugs many of us take to relieve the symptoms can kill, too.
Life is full of wonders and pleasures, even though the vehicle through which I’m experiencing it is somewhat defective. Even with those defects, though, I’m in no rush to leave this body behind. Too much to see and do, no time right now to break in a new body, learn to walk and read all over again and such.
This is one of the times of the year when the time of day becomes irrelevant. It is never dark, so we don’t sleep much. The other time when the clock doesn’t mean so much is at the opposite end of the year, when it is dark most of the time and we sleep enough to make up for these midnight walks and the summer all-nighters when the thought of going to bed just doesn’t come up.
I celebrate both solstices. Winter Solstice is a time of joy because it signals the return of the sun, increasing hours of daylight. Summer Solstice has a bittersweet edge to it, even amid all the green and the midnight sun, because then the days begin to grow shorter again.
I probably won’t get to town again before the solstice. Three years ago, on the Summer Solstice, I took a walk around my neighborhood late in the evening, took some pictures (one of which JadedFey AKA oOMisfitOo made into a banner for me), then came home and posted the pics and my reflections on my philosophy of life. It’s still there, although some of the pics did not survive my paring down of my Xanga image files in an effort to stay within my limits.
Comments (14)
You’re online! Must be Thursday…
Enjoy the Solstice and feel better!
For the most part I love this time of year! Some of the bugs creep me out but I’m sure I creep them out as well. I love watching the tad poles become frogs – it is such a illustration of evolution at it’s best.
So good to hear from you Kathy!
hey, it’s good to hear from you. across the continent here in cleveland we are having an awfully buggy summer too, the little mayflies that live on the lake are making it out to the suburbs this year. when i was helping a friend move into her place, we had to go on a pest-control mission around the house that had been vacant for awhile. i read online that seeing so many of those bugs means our water is less polluted. im glad to hear that the river isnt catching on fire any time soon, but man those bugs are really gross.. they have furry antenna and they’re small enough to get in anywhere. i like the pictures you posted too, are they recent?
you have such an open view on life…it is refreshing…I have missed visiting your xanga with work and all.good to be back…lovely pix…huggs…Sassy
We have alot more bugs this year due to all the rain we’ve been having…. I think I’ll take my kids out to Earthsea to celebrate the Solstice on Sunday…. (even though it’s a tad bit early)… it’s Adam’s bday on Sunday too so it might be a good day.
All the green is very beautiful, I can’t imagine daylight around the clock, or even to think that right now as the sun is going lower, that this is what it could be like in Alaska at midnight.
you should know that neighborhood is always greener than your own one….
The photos are lovely but I still think you’re a mighty brave woman to live in a place that sounds so remote. And thank god, or whomever, for drugs. My own autoimmune diseases have forced me to resort to a neverending quest to find the perfect ones. But of course there are no perfect ones.
Enoy the green and curse the misquitoes.
Some years go by and I hardly notice the solstices; you can’t miss it up there! I was much more aware this year–maybe reading your posts? The summer soltice IS bittersweet, and I never thought of looking at winter that way, but I love your optimistic view. I wondered if you sleep less…I know I do, and the daylights hours are not as dramatic. I should have been asleep two hours ago!
I never realized how much greenery and life there is up north. I guess all the pictures I’ve seen are all, rocky rivers with bears eating fish, or the beautiful coastline, or the pristine looking glaciers. When I hear Alaska I think snow. Which by your account is just the tip of (yes you guessed it) the iceberg. Be well.
“Art is a microscope which the artist fixes on the secrets of his soul and shows to people these secrets which are common to all.” Leo Tolstoy
UNHAPPY AS CAN BE
If you were an animal
Would you cry?
I would
Cause today they’ll die
We kill em’ for meat
We kill em’ for shoes
We kill em’ for bacon
Or expensive leather interior
All this is happening–
Today
Yesterday
The day before that
And will happen tomorrow
Unless you help the animals out
^ Oh boyoboyoboy! I can’t wait to see Kathy’s reponse to THIS genius.
i was reading an article about mosquitoes the other day.
)
always interesting to me since i am a veritable buffet for them.
seems it has to do with how i smell.
*sniff* hm. lavender?
but…i digress
it made me think of you in alaska and the blanketing of mosquitoes you get up there. it would drive me insane. i’m so sensitive (and of course, i smell good, too). i’d probably get all of the blood sucked out of me in seconds. (exaggeration? yes…of course)
and? i’m laughing w/grey fox over the poem left up there.