With the conclusion of the cruise ship and excursion train season in southeastern Alaska, it became time to make the long drive from the workplace in Skagway to the family home in Anchorage. Curiously, no roadway or railroad link connects the Alaska panhandle to the main part of the state. One must leave the country, drive through British Columbia and the Yukon, recross the border back into Alaska, and then continue southwestward to Anchorage. I accompanied my son James on this journey through a snow-filled and mountainous landscape on Thursday and Friday, October 24 and 25, 2024. On arrival in Anchorage, my son Steven and his two little girls, Miss Katie and Miss Abby, welcomed us to their home, as yet untouched by snow.
Before
Halloween, however, this changed. The
clean, white, fresh-fallen snow that now blanketed the city reminded me that
the beauty of the Earth is not confined to the oceanfront or the high seas but
can be found in our own neighborhoods as well.
Accordingly, then, I set out with my trusty little cell phone camera to
record some of this simple yet majestic beauty, and I’m pleased to present some
of the results here.
For this first photograph, taken at midday on a bright and sunny Wednesday, October 30, I faced west across a field near my sons’ house. Note the long shadows cast by the Sun. At this far northern latitude, about 62 degrees above the equator, the Sun at the highest point of its transit remained quite low in the sky and shone nearly horizontally:
Twenty-four
hours later, on Halloween, I looked eastward across the same field. The trees obscured a busy street and a
railroad bridge, and thus they gave the neighborhood an almost rural
appearance:
Later in the afternoon on Halloween, the sky changed to overcast in the south. These two views from James’ front window presented a snow-covered semi-suburban residential street scene. Most of this snow remained unplowed for several days:
On Friday, November 1, All Saints Day and my sainted mother’s birthday, we visited the Anchorage Temple. I felt rather sentimental about this building because three years earlier, on Wednesday, October 6, 2021, we had done my parents’ sealings here. Now this temple is due to be replaced by a much larger edifice currently under construction nearby:
While
this older temple remains with us, however, we can enjoy views like this one
that feature the statue of Moroni standing above the treetops and silhouetted by
the low-lying early afternoon Sun:
We
can also glimpse the future in this architectural rendering of the new
Anchorage Temple:
Back
in my sons’ and granddaughters’ neighborhood on Sunday afternoon, November 3, I
stopped by the Rustic Goat, a locally famous restaurant that features al
fresco dining. Somehow, though, I
got the impression that this outdoor dining option was more popular in the
summer:
Three
days later, on a comparatively mild and sunny Wednesday, November 6, I stepped
out onto James’ balcony. With sufficient
layers of warm clothing, this was actually a very pleasant spot for sitting
quietly, reading a good book, and surveying the neighborhood:
Such
mild weather did not last long, however.
After more snowfall and its subsequent cleanup, I walked to a different
spot in the neighborhood on Friday, November 8.
Beyond the plowed piles of snow and the row of houses, the mountains of
the Chugach Range were visible southeast of the city:
Finally, after yet more snowfall, I found our two precious granddaughters, Miss Katie and Miss Abby, watching the weather from their front window on Monday, November 11, a day they had off from school:
The winter beauty of Alaska notwithstanding, these two little girls were the main reason to make the long trek to Anchorage. Every visit with them seems too short; hence the need to return and see them again. Hiking around the city and observing its repose in the snow served as a wonderful collateral benefit while visiting the girls. It gave me the time not only to observe the natural beauty of winter, but also to reflect on the great gift of children and grandchildren. The psalmist informs us that “children are an heritage of the Lord” (Ps. 127:3), and the Lord himself asserts that “of such is the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 19:14). How blessed I am in my posterity!
