It’s February, and not a moment too soon. This craziness called spring in January can’t be reality, but it could have fooled me if it’d gone on much longer. Since when do trees bud out in the middle of January in the interior of Alaska? And that’s all I have to say about that.
I’ve met some different folks the more cognizant portion of my 57 years. The most recent of note is a person who believes in reincarnation. I was given a book about Edgar Cayce, told to read it, and judge for myself whether or not there’s more to life than we’re aware of or taught. So I’ve read a good portion of it and grant that it causes me to ponder, think, wonder but to be convinced requires that I really consider the possibility there may be more to us than we think. It’s interesting indeed, regardless of conviction.
But back to February. It, along with October, are the months I’ve traditionally yearned to be absent from civilization, have mustered more effort in my quest to find “the” spot to target as my final place of domicile, and this 2014 month has proven tradition has not fallen by the wayside. Wrangell-St. Elias region still intrigues me, and southeast retains its hold on my heart, but somewhere – somewhere in between is where the magic is, my pot of gold, the ultimate gathering place of the bits and pieces, flotsam and jetsam, heart and soul. But that’s the stuff of previous posts and has no purpose for revisit.
I could talk about the SeaHawks but what can be said aside from acknowledging one stupendous game? One must appreciate the good sportsmanship of both sides; there was respect and honor on that field, considering the stakes and hopes of the players. In the end, though, it’s still just a game – albeit one of outsized proportions in the scheme of life on earth. I have more feeling for the smashed thumb I acquired while loading the wood boiler this morning, the effect of which will cost me a fingernail, I’m sure. I’d still rather lose that portion of myself to work than sweat over a football game, and I offer no apology for that sentiment.
Two weeks from now and I’ll be certifying to teach lifesaving and emergency medical treatment in the field. It’s far enough from the back of an ambulance, which is hard on the old knees these days, but close enough to instill some good skills in an adept student. It’s important to shove a little anatomy and physiology into the mix so you, my friend, don’t end up with a gung-ho responder who wouldn’t understand why he should not stand you on your head once you’re strapped to a board, and perhaps help him know whether a board is even necessary. That will cover my winter endeavors when time is my own and I’ve plenty of it.
For a short month, February has some good stuff. At least the game is behind us and we can look forward to that thing called spring. Or didn’t we just have that here in Alaska?