I went to the forest.
Our rickety steps complain beneath my ski boots as I descend into the cold night. I’ve switched off the lights inside the cabin. I’ve already hauled the generator out once today to charge our batteries. Every watt and amp must be earned when you live off-grid. Maddie, our dog, gives me a baleful look from the top of the stairs. She’s wrapped in a coat, all four feet strapped into bright red booties, but I understand her skepticism about this excursion. By December standards, it isn’t awful, somewhere around -5 degrees F. My breath emerges in a billowing cloud when I reassure her.
“Come on, we won’t go far.”
For several years when I lived in Alaska, I spent Christmas alone. It is a time of year when many people escape the dark and frigid temperatures, because of the constraints of my job and my bank account, I remained. I was fortunate to have friends who included me in their celebrations. The truth is, I’ve never been the biggest fan of the holidays. I’m happy to try for the people I love, who also love to celebrate, but I find the appeal a bit perplexing.
The snap of my ski binding echoes off the trees. Every noise I make is amplified. I remember reading that in cold temperatures sound travels slower, but further. I hold this thought in my mind as my skis slide in the tracks down the hill. We are a symphony in the still forest: creaking poles, squeaking wax, flexing leather. Maddie runs ahead, her breath a streamer of mist floating between us. She knows where we are going.
In the open area along the creek, the waning moon is bright enough that I no longer need my headlight, so I fumbled with my mittens to click it off. The skeletal black spruce trees cast creepy shadows on the pristine snow. In a few strides, we enter the forest. The taller white spruces and birches block the light. I’ve hit my rhythm, ascending the slight hill, arms, and legs alternating in a dance. Frost has gathered on my eyelashes from my forceful exhalations. I know these trails so well, that I can lose myself in the movement.
The forest opens into a clearing, perched on the top of the rise. Maddie waits for me there, knowing that this is where I will stop. I sit on the backs of my skis, looping my arm around her back. She leans into my weight. My skis skitter out from beneath me. I end up on my back with 60 pounds of dog pinned to my chest. From this position, I can see millions of stars framed by the sharp tops of the trees. Filtered moonlight makes the crystalline snow we are lying on, glow, and it feels as if we are lying on a bed of stars as well. It is a few minutes before I realize that the chill on my cheeks is not evaporating frost, but tears. I cry for the stillness of the night, for the stone of loneliness that I’ve managed to roll away for a brief time. I also cry because I know that this is the best gift: the wild landscape, my healthy body, my loving dog that hasn’t budged from my side. It is what I wish I could give everyone. This peace. This moment.
In place of the gift of a ski through the boreal forest, here are a few suggestions for other gifts. I hope that if you don’t support these creators, you will make it a priority to support small businesses this holiday season.
Books
And surprise, surprise, my book is the first one on the list. Perfect for people wanting an escape into history, adventure, and mystery. Voyage of the Pleiades.
Carrie Hayes’ historical fiction series about sisters, Tennessee Claflin and Victoria Woodhull, is highly recommended. Lush writing weaves facts about the sister’s lives, with Carrie’s imaginative, captivating prose. Start with Naked Truth and sail on through to Well Dressed Lies.
Staying in the historical fiction theme: Deborah King’s books take us to a different era, her trilogy of books spans Depression-era Mississippi through 1980s Chicago, as we follow the trials and tribulations of Glory Bishop and her mother, Mary. Deborah brings the reader into the heart of her characters. You won’t be able to put these books down until you discover what happens to them.
For the reader who prefers something different, Diane Hatz’s Rock Gods and Messy Monsters will catapult you into a dark, whimsical journey into a 1990s record company. Is it speculative fiction? Is it science fiction? Who cares, it is straight-up entertainment!
Ben Goldfarb’s books are a must for the natural history lovers on your list. Eager and his new book, Crossings, educate and entertain.
As you can imagine, my list of book recommendations could go on and on, but I’ll leave it there. If you have any particular requests, let me know. I read a lot of books, across a variety of genres, and can usually come up with something for you.
Gifts that keep giving.
This is a category with gifts that are experiences, or help others. Personally, these are some of my favorite gifts to receive.
The Photo Experience. Do you have a photographer in your life that wants to brush up their craft? With ebooks, videos, essays, and one-on-one tutorials, David Shaw brings his wide range of experiences to this learning site. For starting at $5 a month, you can gift someone access to this extensive, inspiring, resource.
And then they can begin to plan to take a trip with Dave. Dave brings exceptional photography instruction, attention to detail, and love for nature, to every one of his trips. Gifting someone a trip with Dave is giving them a life-changing experience.
I have been on the board of the Alaska Songbird Institute from the beginning. Our dedication to the conservation of songbirds through research and education is vital work. I suggest perusing our website to see the breadth of programs we provide. In particular, our Tree Swallow program has inspired generations of kids to continue on to careers in science.
And finally, for this section, two organizations that I think do an immense amount of good in the world:
And the last category: just for fun.
Sometimes we all need something fun, created by good people. Here are some of my favorites:
Absolutely breathtakingly beautiful
Thanks for the shoutout! And sharing yr memory!