When in doubt, go to Arizona

July 7, 2023January 2, 2024 ~ Crystle ~ 2 Comments

I knew I missed Arizona, but I didn’t realize how much I missed Arizona. Our first stop after leaving the Phoenix airport was to head to Filibertos for a breakfast burrito, but forgetting their monstrous size was a wasteful, rookie mistake. Full, and tired from the early morning journey from Austin, we made the sluggish commute in an unfamiliar rental car through the desert, then ponderosa forest, enjoying the changing biodiversity en route to Flagstaff.

After moving to Texas almost three years ago our environment has been limited to humid hill country, with sprawling live oak trees and oppressive heat, lacking in the sharp peaks and valleys that we had grown accustomed to in Washington, Alaska, and Arizona. I’ve grown fond of my life in Texas, with friends and neighborhood familiarity, a good library job and routine, but I’m out of contact with the outdoors and it pains me. I feel unmoored. We try to get out of town to neighboring cities for concerts, festivals and outings, but overcompensating with cultural activities isn’t grounding in any meaningful way. So we’ve traveled further away to inspire awe.

While living in Texas we have had the privilege of visiting London, Dublin and New York City, and none of them, with all their treasures, heritage, and architectural mastery, have matched the natural beauty of Arizona. As much as I love a good museum in a major city, nothing beats gawking at a 1 mile-wide meteor crater with friends, or a gondola ride to the top of a mountain in Flagstaff with the sweet, excited children you’ve known since birth. A hot trek around Sedona for an aura reading with your best girls is sometimes exactly what is needed to achieve balance. Clutching selenite in a mineral shop to clear blocked energy sometimes works!!

Perhaps what I’ve been missing most are the deep connections we’ve built with dear friends over the years, connections that are severed when we receive orders. As a military spouse, I’ve quietly grieved the loss of roots and long-term community for nearly 12 years. I surrendered my stability to support a service member and the consequences of that decision continue to challenge my concept of place and belonging, and they’re beginning to do the same to my children. It can be very painful. But in a period of doubt and insecurity for us all, there is no better way to restore balance than to return to a place that brings joy, inspires awe, and fosters connection to dear friends. Even if just for a four-day. Thank you Arizona, and Austins!

Aurora Borealis

October 12, 2015January 25, 2023 ~ Crystle ~ Leave a comment

I don’t think these Northern Lights will ever get old. I’ll always enjoy watching them, but I know as the temperatures drop here in Interior Alaska, the desire to sit outside for an hour shooting them will fade. Last week was the perfect climate for catching the Lights show.

Snow from a week ago had mostly melted off, leaving our grass once again exposed. Warmer nights (only dropping to the low 30s) meant down parkas and snow pants stayed in the closet, while we reached instead for vests, light hats, and fleece jackets and gloves. Any colder out, and my fingers would have turned to numb useless nubs, my camera battery would have drained, and my damp hair would have frozen. I don’t know how more disciplined aurora chasers tolerate the freezing temperatures closer to the winter solstice.

So here I present to you the Northern Lights, from October 6, 2015. Hopefully more to come, since this is our last season in Alaska, for now.

And in case you missed it, Isaac and I changed our residency to Alaska. We are coming back to settle down here after his military service ends (not for a few more duty stations, unfortunately). Sorry California and Oklahoma family, but something about this wild, Libertarian place has really appealed to our frontier sensibilities. It must be a mix of the bold folks who live here, the pristine tundra, and the bountiful wildlife and the lack of fashion rules that have really got us dreading the adjustment back to the lower 48 next year.

I’ll miss this one day.

A Day in the Life

March 9, 2015 ~ Crystle ~ 6 Comments

2015-03-09_0008

I’ve been a Cheechako for eighteen months, officially. When you’re new to Alaska the locals call you a Cheechako. It’s only after you’ve been through a full summer and winter cycle that you graduate to ‘Sourdough’. Even though my family is wrapping up our second winter here, we’re part of Fairbanks’ transient population and for that reason I don’t feel seasoned enough to call myself a Sourdough.

Our second winter was easier than the first, mostly because our expectations were born from experience: chronic sub-zero temps, and darkness before and after the winter solstice really dominate the landscape and mood. I gave birth to my second child here, too, permanently solidifying my connection to this land. The cold and isolating Alaskan winters are arduous for this native Southern Californian, but they have their merits, too.

Aurora Borealis, which is said to be ancestors celebrating earthly events, came out in full force the week my baby Woodrow was born, and a few glorious shows in my city neighborhood have occurred in the six months since. It still wasn’t easy being stuck indoors with a newborn (Welcome to the World, Woodrow!) and a bold toddler (Climb down from there, Margot!), all while running my Photography Business, Yea Yea Photography.

My winter days are spent cooped up indoors, trying to find a balance between managing my home, playing with my kids and growing a creative business. My summer days in Alaska are precious. They’re reserved for accumulating outdoor experiences. They’re for wildlife viewing, Denali camping, and farmers market falafel eating! They’re for trail running, berry picking, and hiking. They’re currency and compensation for six long months of winter.

We don’t know where the Army will send us after our time here (a year and a half from now), but it will likely be less dynamic than Alaska. The lessons learned here on seizing the day will never be forgotten, and maybe after I leave I’ll finally feel confident to call myself a Sourdough. 2015-03-09_0010