The air around here feels like it has more substance these days. It's not thick. It's not heavy. It's just more...present? It has bite, it has purpose. Leaves touched by Midas whisper promises of a bristling cold just around the corner.
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| Tundra texture in autumn |
For many, myself included, autumn has always been a time of sadness; increasing darkness, oppressive cold, little snow. Can't climb, can't float rivers, hiking can be spicy, and there isn't enough snow to ski yet. What a miserable time of year.
But I don't feel that way this year. There is a sense of renewal, rebirth, and hope that seems usually reserved for spring but is instead infusing the fall. That chilly bite of morning air is refreshing. It holds promise. Perhaps I'm submitting to the reality of a covid landscape? I don't think that's the case but it's possible. It feels more like I'm finally settling back into my life in Fairbanks and the rhythms Alaska. And that, quite simply put, is such a good fucking feeling.
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| Endless potential in a fall landscape |
Don't get me wrong; I loved taking a few years to explore some of the more far flung areas of the world. However, those 2 years either caused or coincided with a pretty serious period of self doubt and listlessness in my life. It was a god damn rollercoaster of soaring highs interspersed with absolutely crushing lows.
It has been interesting to look back on trip notes and journals from that period of my life. At times they seem almost as if written by a different person. It would be too easy to look back and say that mountains, rivers, wild places, and adventure helped pull me out of my funk. Those things didn't heal me. However, they helped lay bare some of my fears, anger, pain, and insecurities; which in turn allowed me to confront them. Ultimately it was the people I surrounded myself with that helped me recover.
Maybe that's the real reason this autumn feels so primed with potential. I know that I have lingering weak spots; wounds that haven't quite healed. I still grapple with uncertainly sometimes and finding my role in our Alaska outdoor community has been eluding me somewhat. But the damp moss, muted yellows of birch leaves, and rich peaty air seem to carry with them the feeling of growth, love, and laughter; and I AM STOKED for whatever may come.
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| Bear berry leaves: A favorite of the season |
