Let's Go Play Outside

I just finished reading an article about the cognitive benefits of nature.

Specifically getting American children out in it.

According to research, our kids currently spend more than 4 hours a day interacting with technology.  Then more time viewing concrete and blacktop.

"Natural settings and untamed landscapes have a restorative effect, calming our frazzled nerves and refreshing the tired cortex.  After even a brief exposure to the outdoors, people are more creative, happier and better able to focus", states the research.  

"Brain reacts to natural settings by, essentially, sighing in relief."

I have always known that--experienced those sighs, even.

NATURE.

Trees.  Dirt.  Bugs. Critters.  Lack of climate control.

Living in Alaska for the summer allows me a lot of sighing time.

We are surrounded by untamed landscapes and, as anyone who has read

any of my previous blogposts knows, I thrive here.

And so will little Abigail.

But the data proves that even a small patch of nature can

 "confer cognitive benefits".  

In simpler terms, give your brain room to expand! 

Though we live on a tiny lot in a large development in central Texas,

we specifically chose a spot with a backyard that opens to a "greenbelt".

This stretch of Texas wildness invites coyotes, deer, owls, turkeys, 

foxes and assorted trees, grasses and wildflowers.

And this patch of "untamed landscape" becomes

a wondrous place when combined with two darling grandchildren

and masses of magical, colorful butterflies.

Countless silent lessons abound in nature.

One such lesson is that bugs don't live long on the palms of young girls,

even when surrounded by love.

      

The cycle of life is a tough lesson as this grave marker shows.

Gigi cried and told me, "Grandma, we need a rip sign."

(A "rip" sign???)

Aha!  We had been to an old cemetery just awhile ago.

 This paper headstone translates:

Baby Roly Poly  

R.I.P.
And Gigi drew herself shedding copious tears.

The researchers say it's when you "have an extended period of time surrounded by that softly fascinating environment that you start seeing all kinds of positive effects in how your mind works."

How lovely, it sounds like what it is: softly fascinating environment.


Want to concentrate better and cope with life's stresses?
Park the car.  Turn off the cell phone.
 Open your mind and soul to God's world around you today!
In other words, Go outside and play!

                             

I Heard It on the Radio

Something uniquely Alaskan is on the radio.

"Trading Post Trapline Chatter" is aired nightly.

I have laughed at this since the first summer I stayed up here.

The short program consists of messages from people out of communication range.

The term "off the grid" is popular these days, meaning people without electricity.

The folks using the radio to pass messages are off the grid and then some!

What amuses me most is not just the homey, loving messages 

but the person who reads them on the air does so with a halting, choppy style.

Rather reminds me of a first grader learning to read by sounding out words laboriously.

There is NO inflection either, each message is read in monotone.

Since the list of messages are read and then repeated verbatim,

I wrote some typical messages down to share with you:

(For the full effect, try to read each one aloud with a pause between each word

and with a dull, flat voice...)

"To. Martha.
I. Arrived. OK.  

A. Bear. Had. Been. In. The. Cabin. But. I. Got. It. Cleaned. Up."

"From fish camp on the Yukon.

Trail is slimy.  Had to put the chains on.

Smoking salmon all day."

"I send my love and will send a letter on the next boat

coming down the river.  I hope Grandma is feeling better."

"The sheep is doing fine.

Happy birthday to Joe.

Oh, and I found my phone."

(Not that he can even USE the phone where he is!!!
If he did, he wouldn't be using Trapline Chatter.)

Missing My Soft, Warm Alarm Clock

Being far away from home all summer is exciting and I love all it holds for me.

But sometimes I get blue missing special people still in Texas.

One of these is the four-footed kind.  

My great dog Shoeless Joe.

I'm pretty sure he misses me, too, but then he IS a spaniel

and those sad, droopy eyes are part of his happy look, as well.

Tonight I'm thinking of a certain habit of his.

One that only occurs when I am home.

His "dad" never lets him on the bed and he never even tries.

He spends his night sleeping on his own bed next to ours.

Just like this:

 But every morning, between 5:30 and 6:00 AM,

he very silently gets up from his bed,

puts his nose near mine,

then slowly and quietly crawls up on the bed.

He settles in down at the very foot, lies on top of my feet, 

and rests his head on the comforter.

If I should wake, which often I don't, I hear a long, happy sigh.

The morning light changes from season to season and month to month,

but the time in the morning is always the same.

I don't know how he knows.

And he never disturbs me until I am ready to wake up.

Then he crawls up alongside of me and waits for his morning rubdown.

We both love that!

Since I am gone for so many months, he will remain all night

on his mat on the floor.

But the very first night I am back in Texas, he will slip

right back into this habit as if I'd never been gone.

My feet sometimes get cold in bed in Alaska.

I miss him.

Fasten Your Seatbelt!

 WARNING:  This is not for the faint of heart!

Every time I leave the house to head to the big city

(Fairbanks, that is!),

I drive a stretch on a dirt road.

It happens to be downhill a fairly good grade

and I never have to have my foot on the gas.

As a matter of fact, I have to brake much of the way because

of the challenging course near the end of said road.

(note: When wet, dirt roads become slippery mud roads.)

Within 2 tenths of a mile there are warning signs

that rightly need obeyed.  Starts with this one:

Then this one comes up quickly.

Just ahead on the right is a steep drop-off into an abandoned

gravel pit.  The guard rail shows lots of bumps and bruises.

This sharp corner is at the bottom of the hill.

That gravel pit is just beyond the sign.

No problem hitting a guard rail here, at least.

This sign marks the very bottom of the hill.

Miss this one and you'll find yourself nose down in a deep pit.

Josh and Kathleen say that many cars end up here when the road

is a frozen sheet of ice--say, November till March...

They don't salt roads here as it is too cold

and you can't sand a dirt road too effectively.

                           

Once you turn that sharp left, the road begins to straighten and flatten out.

 And just before the last curve, a right hand one this time,

this warning of a stop sign ahead stands pretty hidden in the bushes.

Can you find it?  Neither can I.

Warning signs are NOT suggestions.

Just a few days after I took these pictures to share on the blog,

I came home to discover the initial sign (going in the opposite direction)

warning drivers to SLOW DOWN had met with a conflicting opinion.

                          
                      

        And by the looks of it, I wonder how the other guy had fared!

                           

If I Were a Rich Man--er, Woman!

The other day Abigail and I took a little history trip.

Not far from where she lives is the spot where gold was first

discovered here in Fairbanks.

Felix Pedrono, (mis)known as Felix Pedro around these parts,

was the lucky Italian who struck paydirt in 1902.

 When we read that the windfall came from the creek right

across the road, we just had to go see...

and there it was, just a humble little creek gurgling along.

But there was this sign posted that invited anyone to try their luck.

"Good panning and good luck!"

And looking downstream, we realized that's exactly what

some people were doing.

This fellow was dressed much the way Felix would have been,

except for the canvas chair, of course.  

He had his shovel, a pan and sifter.

So I asked Abigail what she thought.

Should we get ourselves a shovel and pie pan?

We could be rich!

Being the caring mother that she is 

(except for the fact that she likes her baby to go in the nude all the time),

she consulted Anna about the prospects of finding gold.

Both decided that a snack at home was more appealing so we left.

Driving the pretty trip back, we noticed piles of rock along the banks of that

little creek and knew that not just a handful of folks have tried to follow in

Felix's tracks.  

I wonder how many have walked away with a fortune?

As for me, I just may head back there a time or two this summer.

And I'll pack snacks for Abigail and Anna first.

OY! What a commute!

As I mentioned before, I am staying out of town this summer.

I'm in the green, rolling hills north of Fairbanks, 

the ones where gold was first discovered in this area.

I have a 13 mile commute to the hospital each morning.

Could be stressful and tiring, I know. 

One thing I really, really, REALLY dislike in life is traffic.

REALLY.  HATE.  TRAFFIC.

See the kind of traffic I have to deal with each morning:

I can TOTALLY handle this.  Even enjoy it.

As I begin to coast down from the higher elevation, I can see pretty Fairbanks below.

She sits in a large, expansive valley, almost a bowl.

I can pick out the buildings that make up the college and even 

Fairbanks Memorial Hospital where I work.

Surrounding the city are the hills and, further beyond,

three great mountain ranges.

                       

Just a few miles into my trip, the jagged, snowy peaks of the

Alaska Range peek over the tall trees. 

This vista always makes me smile.

And then the pride of the Alaska Range grandly appears.

Mt. McKinley, or Denali-"The Great One", the tallest peak in all

of North America, greets me.

Not every day as the clouds sometimes fill the horizon.

But on the days this massive mountain glows in the sunlight,

I am buoyed upward by its silent, powerful presence.

It simply does my heart good to whisper,

"Good morning to you, too."

So you see, not only is there NO stress in this commute,

it blesses and centers me and I begin my workday with a song in my heart.

My friends, I wish I had a better camera than my basic little Canon and I realize

this picture is rather poor quality.  
But, please look beyond the blurriness and graininess

and join me in recognizing greatness when you see it. 

Here are two pictures I took of the same mountain a couple of years ago.

Kathleen and I were on an adventure to go into Denali National Park 

and were thrilled to see all of this mountain as it often has its summit

sheathed in clouds.

That was a very good day. 

So is every day I have to live and work here.

And I never mind the commute!

MIdnight Sunshine

Isn't it odd how some things in life just never grow old?

Those things that, no matter how often they are experienced,

still bring excitement and wonder to our souls?

Things such as:

 a baby's laughter,

the freshness and silence of winter's first snowfall,

the lonely, haunting call of geese heading south,

the fragrance of freshly mowed grass,

and summer solstice in Fairbanks.

Yes, today is the longest day of the year

and it means there will be no darkness at all.

Since the day is not over yet, I'm using some pictures from

the past few years here.

Tonight, at 10pm right now, the sky is as bright as noon.

 This picture was taken at midnight.  

Mr. Sun is still up and shining bright.

The actual sunset is scheduled for 12:48 AM tonight...

The sunrise is officially 2:58 AM.

The two hours in between fill the sky with rosy glows 

as the colors of the sun's setting and  rising blend into one.

                                

Honestly,  for weeks the night colors have been just like this

and they will remain so for many more weeks to come.

But, just the knowing that this is the official longest day

makes me want to stay up and gaze at the skies.

But, alas, work begins early tomorrow morning and I must sleep

to make it through the demands of the day.  

So, I will go to sleep under blue skies

and wake under the same.  

I'll miss the short spell of pink as the sun dips briefly below the horizon,

but my heart will still be glad.

I've just had another solstice in the Land of the Midnight Sun.

And it doesn't get old.

Good night.  Or is it morning?

Family Togetherness

 I have returned to Alaska for another contract as a travel nurse

at Fairbanks Memorial Hospital.

My job is the same and I slipped into the role more smoothly than 

I had ever expected.  

I recognize many staff and they all accept my presence as normal, 

even though I've been gone 8 months.

Even quite a number of patients that I've treated in other summers

remember me and we chat like old friends.

It has been a wonderful return.

There is one BIG change, however.

I have chosen not to stay at the apartment from the past

but I'm living with Josh and Kathleen at their home in the hills

north of the city.

I drive the country, unpaved road to their house each evening

and am greeted with a good meal, smiles and hugs.

And enthusiastic greetings and smiles from my sweet, little

granddaughter, Abigail.

If she's on the deck when I pull in the yard,  she waves her arm

so much that her whole little body wiggles.

Now who wouldn't choose a welcome like that?

She's decided she likes wearing my shoes, besides.

                                      

And Grandma's car has a different car seat--

this one is front-facing so she can feel the wind blowing her hair.

Yay for watching what's coming for a change!

 I never wanted to stay with this little family for such an extended time

and still have the option of moving to Wedgewood Resort.

But Kathleen comes up with new reasons EVERY day
examining why I should stay with them.

  The silken threads of love seem to be binding me here.

I have a pretty little room to myself with windows looking out at dozens 

of tall birch trees and blue skies, birds and moose. 

 Reminds me of a college dorm room, all my personal things in one place.  

It feels good.  And right.

And I like waking to a tiny hand knocking on my door, calling "Mamaw!"

People Along My Path

We can learn so much from others.

One great benefit of my job as a nurse in an outpatient setting is that a vast array of different people come and go every day I am working.

Sickness is an amazing equalizer.

Butcher, baker or candlestick maker...

doctor, lawyer... you get the picture.

My patients are vulnerable, hurting or weak and I have the

privilege of treating them in an effort to improve their present condition.

And I totally believe in holistic nursing whereby I touch

body, soul and mind.

And that means talking and mostly listening.

*****

This sharing is certainly not limited to a hospital IV infusion room.

We  each have the wonderful opportunity of getting to know others

 if we are willing to reach out and try.  

Now, I must confess that I am often so tired from preparing for a trip

 that I get my window seat and curl up (as much as one can 

in a cramped airline seat) and go to sleep.

My back to the person next to me, my body language shouts,

"Leave me alone!"

But, once in awhile I make eye contact with a seatmate and a conversation ensues.

And I'm never sorry I did!

On the Seattle to Fairbanks flight, that's what happened.

This young man is from Moldova, an eastern European country

near Romania that used to be part of the USSR.

"A very small, poor agricultural country," he described in a thick accent.

His mother a teacher, father a farmer.

His father needed him to labor on the farm but understood his son wanted to expand his horizons by spending the summer in the US.

A sophomore in college near home, he is returning to Fairbanks 

to work at the Pump House Restaurant for the second year. 

I doubt his limited English skills could enable him to work

 as a waiter and, indeed, his job is a busboy.

We chatted about the great restaurant and how my daughter 

had her wedding dinner there 6 years ago.

He had been traveling for 2 days already 

and was very tired on this last leg of his journey.

He spent over $2,000 for his fare.

He did not know where he would be living but had a friend who was

 (hopefully) picking him up at the airport.

He was polite and pleasant and though I could not understand the

pronunciation of his name, he chatted comfortably.

I see  him as brave.

(Although if he were mine I'd see him as reckless, I must admit.)

20 years old and venturing to a far off land, speaking another language.

Unsure of lodging, transportation and working a poorly paid job.

I wonder that his pay covers his air fare, never mind meals and housing.

But he recognizes the poverty back in Moldova

and wants more choices for his life.

His experience in America is limited to Fairbanks,

but he grins and speaks of how much money and opportunity

is here in America.

Our brief time on the flight caused me to ponder on all I take for granted.

Opportunities.  Money. Security. Freedoms.

A sober pause to reflect on my life.

Thanks to a young college student far from home.

Wild at Heart

                             

The view from my window proves I'm no longer in Texas.

No cacti...

no mockingbird singing...

no 90 degree days... 

no deer in the backyard...

no backyard even.

But a moose recently grazed her way through the woods just outside

and I am wearing a sweatshirt and warm pants. 

Why?

My Alaskan summer has begun once again.

And I am ever so thankful.

As the plane left Seattle at 9:30 pm, it was dark and stars shone.

These would be the last stars I see until September.

Barely an hour into the northwestern flight

I noticed a faint line of yellow marking the horizon ahead.

From 33,000 feet above, the curvature of the earth is so evident.

And lovely with the glow of light marking it.

Such a strange phenomenon:

 the later the hour became, closer and closer to midnight,

the brighter this horizon grew--

the band of light growing wider and higher and redder.

Defying what my mind expected for the time of night.

Massive, snow covered mountains glow in setting sunlight

and tall, dark Black Spruce darken the land beneath the plane.

Our descent into Fairbanks connected with my soul 

and I recognized the wide, silty banks of the tangled Tanana River

meandering wherever its glacial waters choose.

My heartbeat quickened as I acknowledged the wildness of this land.

People may have settled here but nature dictates their course.

The land of Interior Alaska will not be tamed.

And this harsh and beautiful wonder thrills me.

The expanse of forest, height of the trees, twisting of rivers, 

and massive mountains all shout of excessive sizes.

Just because they can!

No borders limit them--one cannot stop a glacier grinding forward.

Nor a raging forest fire devouring hundreds of thousands of acres.

And my soul expands with this environment.

I am reminded how big my God is when I am here!

His mighty hand created all my eyes see!

I sigh and am filled with peace as the wheels touch down.

I pray I am ready to begin yet another brief span of time here

in this great place with people I love.