a different sort of beauty.

i knew it when i gazed out the plane window in anchorage. the sunsets are different here.

lingering. in no sort of hurry. dancing on the horizon as long as they please.

and i remember those sunsets over the bay in grand roy. the ones i would rush to see. for fear of missing them. one of the few things in grenada that was quick. the sun would sink so abruptly. then inspire a unique splash of colour in the clouds. each sunset different. reminding me of fleeting beauty to be embraced. a sacred celebration as the light disappeared into the sea.


but on those days that are clear in nome, when our hearts give thanks for the sunshine and the blue skies, we don't have to hurry to see the sunset. she lingers. she stays around a while. don't worry, she whispers in the quiet stillness. there is beauty in abundance. beauty that lasts. you must only open your eyes to see.


and the sky gradually transforms. as day and night trade places. and during these winter months, darkness lingers much longer than the sunsets. but folks tell me not to worry. the sun visits us more and more each day. and summertime will hold an unfathomable magic.


but we can't just live during summertime. so we breathe in the cold winter air. and marvel at the snow. and open our eyes to the present beauty. and trust in the beauty that is to come.


and only on my third alaskan sunset, my wonderfully eccentric, compassionate, worldly coworker issac, let me tag along behind him on a pair of borrowed skis. as the sunset tarried in her simple glory. and we carved out a path on the frozen sea. in awe of the vast beauty unraveling before us.


and i slowly and awkwardly ventured on. my first time on cross country skis. falling flat on occasion. yet somehow finding a certain rhythm. lost in all of this. another set of "i live here?" moments. like i would have in grenada. just surrounded by a different sort of beauty this time.


and in skiing over the sea, everything seems so open. so wide. and there is no path. you just go. and find your way. stride by stride. and there's not a right way. or a wrong way. the way just evolves in time. and you just wander. and trust in where you're going.


and i feel like i'm wandering. from place to place. with no clear path before me. making it up as i go along. yet somehow caught up in the beauty of it all.


and i don't know where i fit. or where this path is taking me. but i'm on it. and it may go in a straight line. or a circle. or just meander around. but i must trust that its taking me where i'm going. so perhaps i'm a nomad in nome. in search of something i'm not quite sure of. but searching still the same.


and there is beauty to be held in this place. but hopefully, as in grenada, i will discover the people that give this place its true beauty. i will discover the spirit that dwells here. the spirit that lingers.