The light is back. The snow is gone in town, and is quickly disappearing in the mountains. I’ve been working long days through the spring, banking the hours so I can disappear outside once our short summer arrives. In the meantime, I’ve been taking what I can: late-night walks, weekend trips.
It seemed like the cold would never end this winter. As soon as the snow melted from the sidewalks, I was walking or running every minute I wasn’t at work or sleeping. Every evening, I pushed a little later, following the Sun as the days lengthened.
I wasn’t content with sidewalks for long, just walking around the University near my home. Anxiety grew to get out on the trails. It was a few more weeks before the slush melted out and the mud dried enough to start spending some time in the woods.
Once the trails dried out, my attention shifted from simply getting outside to watching the first signs of spring emerge.
The willows, always the first to bloom, came late this year. I had really hoped to see shootingstars in the Nome Creek Valley a couple of weekends ago, but they haven’t shot up yet. Still waiting on some flowers that I often see a few weeks earlier. Friends keep encouraging me to publish my field guide, but it’s been on hold for more than a year since I took over managing the gym. My eagerness to photograph wildflowers and return to writing my field guide keeps growing.
By mid-May, it was easy to stay out after midnight. Every night became a slightly modified walk between UAF and the University trail system or Creamer’s Field and the Wedgewood Wildlife Sanctuary. The tree swallows arrived and began nesting at the nest boxes at Creamer’s Field. Right before the start of June, many early forest flowers, such as fairy slippers (Calypso bulbosa), bloomed.
One thing different about this year from years past is that I’ve spent a lot of time walking and hiking with friends. It’s been a year and a half since my separation, and I haven’t focused on friendships much in well over 15 years, since before my first marriage.
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I hadn’t counted on chasing sunsets, wildlife, or flowers with other people, but I’ve felt some friendships growing over the past months. For years, I’ve felt like I wanted to hike alone. That solitude was my peace. Lately, I’ve been wondering if that’s just what I’ve been telling myself.
There was a freedom to it. With my photography, I tend to just wander without an agenda. Moving at my own pace, stopping when the light is right, taking my time to really see something.
Photography has always been my way of sharing the world as I see it. I spend a lot of time finding the best views at the best moments, then putting the image out there. Or, at least to the subset of the world that sees my photos.
I started noticing a shift when my friend CJ visited last fall. I’ve always liked having her along. We’re always on exactly the same page when we are out exploring together. I realized I didn’t just enjoy sharing the experiences and the views, but the company itself.
For most of my adult life, my world revolved around someone else. Now, my time is my own, and I’ve been figuring out what I want to do with it, and who I want along. More and more, I find I’d rather share these places in person than only as photographs and words.
