A few things.
Well, Winter is here in interior Alaska. Snow is accumulating, the temperatures are dropping, and the amount of sunlight each day is decreasing.
On October 19th, Trent and I eloped in the mountain beauty of Hatcher Pass- just outside of Palmer, Alaska. The day was perfect. We woke up early that morning and watched the sunrise over snowy mountain peaks from the wide bedroom window—gradient colors of pink, orange, and red over cool-toned snow-covered rock. Sun rays seep in, reflecting off Trent’s ginger hair. My face glowed at the thought of becoming his wife—slow mornings—our favorite practice.
We later left to pick up coffee and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, and we began to prepare for the moment we would cherish forever.
As a little girl, I sometimes thought of my wedding day. With the unknown in mind, you can only imagine what may or may not be possible. It’s natural, maybe only for some, but it’s a shared experience. Coming from a split family, with parents who married young and later on inevitably divorced, it altered my perspective on what this “should” look like—a wedding, marriage, and becoming one that is. But when I began dating Trent, things just clicked. No anxiety, No racing thoughts, No worry. Just bliss. It is as if intuitive energy eased my being and continues to bring me that ease.
The perfect day.
A few weeks before, I picked up Cabin 135 by Katie Eberhart. Regarding books, I don’t necessarily have a specific genre I stick to. I pick up whatever sounds interesting at the time. This memoir left me pleasantly surprised. Almost as if I was drawn to it for a reason.
Since moving here, my inner nerd has come out in full force. I feel it’s important to know the environment you live in: history, culture, plant identification, practices of the everyday. Reading Cabin 135 was the unique yet relatable collection of printed pages I needed. A story of a woman in similar shoes (or snow boots) as I am currently. Moved to Alaska, with fresh eyes, alongside her husband- to make a little cabin their home. The structure of the book is unlike anything I have read before. No chapters, No actual storyline to follow page by page. Yet, still tells her story seamlessly. Bouncing from stories of her youth, the beginning of her relationship, the history of Alaska, and the making of her home, all while slowly uncovering the house's history as she renovates. And the cabin still remains in Palmer, Alaska. The memoir was a reminder to digest and appreciate all the good in every day and make little mental notes- documenting the smallest and biggest experiences. A conversation with a stranger, the single flower or berry bush you stumble upon, the many times you stack wood or drive through blizzards.
And someday, maybe when I’m 60, I’ll publish my little notes as she did.