Thoughts Of The Midnight Sun

I participate in a Friday meme called Skywatch Friday.  Two weeks ago, a blogger posted a photo taken in Wales of a sunset at about 10pm.

Only once in my life did I see a sunset that late. It was many years ago, when spouse and I stayed one night in a cabin in Minnesota in early June.  And even at that, it wasn't a kind of sunset I've wanted to see all my life - the sunset of the midnight sun.

I have never seen the midnight sun.  For all I know (as I am a very nervous flyer - no, let's be honest, I'm scared to death of flying and haven't been on a plane since 1996) I never will, at least in person. Upstate New York is a long way from Iceland, or Norway, Antarctica or even Alaska.

If I had a bucket list, seeing the midnight sun would be on it.  Why?  Because light at midnight breaks a basic rule of my life.  I grew up in New York City.  I have lived in Florida, in Iowa, in Kansas, in Arkansas, and, for the past 30 plus years, upstate New York.

In all of those places, the sun rises every day.  It travels up in the sky.  Then it goes down and sets.  Then there is dark.  Rinse and repeat, 365 days a year.  It's one of those basic rules.  If the rule ever was to break, I would become scared in a primeval way.  The world has rules it's obeyed all of my life.

If I looked up at the dark sky, and the stars were all in places they didn't belong, how would I feel?  Scared, I imagine.  As a little girl, I had dreams like that.  It makes me wonder, sometimes, if I was remembering a memory fragment from a previous life.  I was very young, but I still remember the fear.  And sometimes, in those dreams, the sun wouldn't set until near midnight.  It seemed right, but also scary.  Again, why?

The sunrise/sunset daily cycle doesn't happen the same way everywhere, and I've known thatsince I was a little girl.  I think I knew it before I ever learned about "why" in elementary school science.  I knew there were places where the sun did not set during some of the year, and did not rise during some of the year.  Or, the sun did rise or set, but not long enough to matter.

I visited Alaska once. It was in September, back in the 1980's, before I developed my fear of flying. Close to the fall equinox, the day length was about the same there as in upstate New York. But the quality of the light was different, noticeably different.  It was - well, not just dimmer.  It was different.  I wasn't big into photography back then, but I may have been seeing an hours long golden hour.  Also, dusk seemed to go on for hours after the sun set.

And the flowers - the flowers!  My spouse and I saw nasturtiums with blooms practically the size of dessert plates (OK, I exaggerate) tumbling out of planters in Juneau.  I saw glaciers with ice so blue that I bought a blue topaz just to remember the color.  (We also saw banana slugs and moss covered roofs, but we won't go there).

I would love to see the Midnight Sun baseball game in Fairbanks, Alaska, one day.  I was surprised to find out how many major league baseball players played ball in Fairbanks before they went on to bigger and better things.  They all got to see the midnight sun.  The sun sets in Fairbanks on the summer solstice (it isn't far enough north for 24 hour darkness), but it never gets totally dark on the solstice.

I  hope to see that one day.  

As the days of my life grow shorter, time gets more precious.  And "one day" takes on new meaning.

I have to decide if I'm serious.

Number 41 and the Boys of Summer

In July of 2019, I blogged about "The Miracle Boys of Summer".  Today, we have one fewer.  Hall of Famer pitchTom Seaver died yesterday, at the age 75.  He had  Lewy Body dementia but it was announced the contributing cause of death was COVID-19.

A couple of times over the years, I blogged about Tom Seaver and the Midnight Sun game he pitched for the Alaska Goldpanners in 1965.

Seeing the Midnight Sun game is on my bucket list - it is played in Fairbanks on the longest day of the year, starting around 10pm, and is played without any artificial lighting.

As for "The Miracle Boys of Summer", here is that post:

With age comes nostalgia.  In my mind, they will be forever young.  Even if you don't like baseball, please stick around for this story.

I grew up in the Bronx in the 1950's and 1960's.  The New York City I was born into had three major league teams.  The teams were the New York Yankees, the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants.

The year I was born, the Yankees played the Dodgers in the World Series, and the Yankees won. In fact, until 1959, the World Series featured at least one New York City team.  Sometimes both were New York City teams.

But by the time I was old enough to discover and start loving baseball, those days were over. As it happens, neither of my parents were baseball fans, but I managed to discover the sport.  Meanwhile,the Dodgers and the Giants fled New York City for California.  There was only one team left in town, the Bronx Bombers (nickname for the Yankees) and I became a Yankees fan.

In 1962, New York City gained a second team - the New York Mets.  Managed by the former Yankees manager Casey Stengel and populated with a combination of young players and players way past their prime (some of them from the Dodgers), they quickly gained the love of New York City fans.  Lovable, yes.  But champions they were not.

They were bad.  No, they were BAD.  Their first season, they won 40 games and lost 120. The second year they improved, winning 51 games (and losing 111).  For several years, they were mired in mediocrity, but the love of their fans never wavered.  And, during that time period, I abandoned the Yankees and turned to the New York Mets.  The Amazin' Mets.

Then, along came 1969.  In a series of what seemed to be miracles, the Mets started to win game after day (that year, they won 100 games) as the front runner Cubs faded.  The Mets united a city that seemed to be deteriorating daily.   My spouse was at the game where they won the pennant against the Braves.  I cheered from the classrooms I was attending as a high school senior.

Then, in one final miracle, they went to the World Series - and won in five games (the Series is a best four of seven).

This past weekend, the 1969 Mets were given the keys to the city by the Mayor.   It was a weekend of memories, a weekend of nostalgia.

It's been 50 years.  I am a senior citizen now and no longer a baseball fan.  But this brought me back to a special time.  I wish I could have been at Citi Field, but it wasn't all joy. The years have not been kind to all of the Miracle Mets, just as the years aren't necessarily kind to us.

Not all of  the 1969 Mets were there. Their manager, former Dodger Gil Hodges, died at the age of 47. Their general manager (Johnny Murphy) died in 1970.  One of their stars, Tommy Agee, died in 1981 at age 58.  Another, Tug McGraw (better known to many as Tim McGraw's father) died from brain cancer in 2004 at the age of 59 . Donn Clendenon, who became a lawyer after his playing days were over, is no longer with us.  Ed Charles died last year. 

Tom Seaver, the Hall of Fame pitcher, has dementia (he wasn't able to attend).  Eddie Kranepool recently had a kidney transplant.  

And there are those who are still active in their communities such as Cleon Jones, who was 26 when he played in 1969.  Now he is 86 and a community volunteer, still active in making where he lives in Alabama a better place for its residents.

A weekend of nostalgia over, we all return to everyday.  Time marches on, and we know there will be no 75th anniversary with the original players.  Time marches on.

But for this weekend, it was a chance to look back at our youth, our childhoods.

Tom Seaver, may you forever RIP.

Throwback Thursday - Baseball Under the Midnight Sun

In 2009, my first year of blogging, I blogged about my fascination with sunsets and the midnight sun.  I am repeating the post today, with some updates and edits, to celebrate the first day of summer.

Tennessee Sunset from my Guest Photographer's Sister

When I was growing up in the Bronx, a borough of New York City, I used to have dreams about living in a place where the sun never set. In these dreams, sometimes the sun would set, but it would be very late at night. I would gaze out my window at 11pm (in my dream) and it would still be light. Sometimes, though, it was dark all the time. I would look at the stars, and they were different. This would, for some reason, frighten me.

When I found out that there were, indeed places which had 24 hours of light in the summer and 24 hours of dark in the winter, I began to wonder about what it would truly be like to see the sun at midnight, or experience total darkness.

As an adult, I haven't had that opportunity (either way) except through the Internet.

In 2008, through a website called Eternal Sunset (which appears no longer to exist), I tracked a location in Antarctica and a location in Fairbanks, Alaska for an entire year. However, neither location has the true 24 hour swing - Fairbanks, for example, has a maximum daylight time of 21 hrs and 45 minutes (approximately.) They do have 24 hour "light"on the day of the summer solstice but the sun does set.

For a while, I would visit an actual 24 hour web cam location - in Norway. Svalbard Longyearbyen, to be exact.  In June of 2009, as I wrote this post, it was almost midnight. The sun was right on the horizon. The web cam was pointed at it. It was 28 degrees above zero F, with snow on the ground, and several people on snowmobiles were clearly visible.

What is it like to live there?  It made me wonder.

There are photos of this area, and stunning would not begin to describe it. What does the person who runs this website do for a living? Does he sleep at all during the arctic day? Has he ever been to more temperate climes? If so do our days and nights seem weird to him?

Meanwhile, in Fairbanks, they will hold their 113th Midnight baseball game tonight. According to the Alaska Goldpanners (Fairbanks) website, the first game was held in 1906, but several times there was more than one game in a year.

This is a video of the 2016 game, which ended at 12:18 am.  If you forward to 3:58 in the video (as the game ends), you will see the setting sun. 

What a thrill.

If you are a true baseball fan, you can  watch several minutes of a young Tom Seaver (Hall of Fame pitcher) pitching the 1965 Midnight Sun game. 

This annual late night game is played in its entirety without artificial lighting and there is a special Midnight pitch.  Tom Seaver is wearing a red uniform in this footage - the quality, by the way, is terrible.

One day, I may  make a dream come true, and go to that game.  But until then, I will continue to watch sunsets in my native New York State.  Today, the sun will set for us at 8:43 pm.

Have you ever seen the Midnight Sun?

Time to greet summer - and, perhaps, Play Ball!

Revisiting The Midnight Sun

In 2009, my first year of blogging, I blogged about my fascination with sunsets and the midnight sun.  I am repeating it today, with edits, to celebrate the first day of summer

Sunset, about 8:30 pm June 16, 2016 - no it's not the midnight sun!

When I was growing up in the Bronx, a borough of New York City, I used to have dreams about living in a place where the sun never set. In these dreams, sometimes the sun would set, but it would be very late at night. I would gaze out my window at 11pm (in my dream) and it would still be light. Sometimes, though, it was dark all the time. I would look at the stars, and they were different. This would, for some reason, frighten me.

When I found out that there were, indeed places which had 24 hour light and 24 hour dark, I began to wonder about what it would truly be like to see the sun at midnight, or experience total darkness.

As an adult, I haven't had that opportunity (either way) except through the Internet.

In 2008, through a website called Eternal Sunset (which appears no longer to exist), I tracked a location in Antarctica and a location in Fairbanks, Alaska for an entire year. However, neither location has the true 24 hour swing - Fairbanks, for example, has a maximum daylight time of 21 hrs and 45 minutes (approximately.) They do have 24 hour "light"on the day of the summer solstice but the sun does set.

For a while, I would visit an actual 24 hour web cam location - in Norway. Svalbard & Longyearbyen, to be exact. As I wrote this post, it was almost midnight. The sun was right on the horizon. The web cam was pointed at it. It was 28 degrees above zero F, with snow on the ground, and several people on snowmobiles were clearly visible.

What is it like to live there?  It made me wonder.

There are photos of this area, and stunning would not begin to describe it. What does the person who runs this website do for a living? Does he sleep at all during the arctic day? Has he ever been to more temperate climes? If so do our days and nights seem weird to him?

Meanwhile, in Fairbanks, they will hold their 111th Midnight baseball game on Tuesday, June 21.  According to the Alaska Goldpanners (Fairbanks) website, the first game was held in 1906, but several times there was more than one game in a year.

And, if you are a true baseball fan, you can even watch about 10 minutes of a young Tom Seaver (Hall of Fame pitcher) pitching the 1965 Midnight Sun game.  Keep in mind that what you are seeing is happening somewhere between 10:30-11 pm.

This annual late night game is played in its entirety without artificial lighting, and there is a special Midnight pitch.

One day, I may even make a dream come true, and go to that game.  But until then, I love to watch sunsets, and take pictures of them.

Have you ever seen the Midnight Sun?

My Eternal Obsession with the Midnight Sun

Today, in the United States, it is the first day of summer.  In some areas of Alaska, they have 24 hours of light.  In Fairbanks, Alaska, they will be holding the Midnight Sun baseball game - played without any artificial light - first pitch at 10:30 pm.

A lot of famous baseball players (before they got to the majors) played for the Alaska Goldpanners - including Hall of Famer (and former New York Met) Tom Seaver.  Watch him get the last out in the 1965 Midnight Sun game and see if you don't get chills.  I do.  Repeat after yourself:  this is near midnight.  This is near midnight.  Time for my annual and eternl obsession with....(Please be sure to read the update at the end of this post).

Eternal Sunsets of the Spotting Mind(from one of my early blog posts.)

 When I was growing up in the Bronx,I used to have dreams about living in a place where the sun never set. In these dreams, sometimes the sun would set, but it would be very late at night. I would gaze out my window at 11pm (in my dream) and it would still be light. Sometimes, though, it was dark all the time. I would look at the stars, and they were different. This would, for some reason, frighten me.

When I found out that there were, indeed places which had 24 hour light and 24 hour dark depending on the time of year, I began to wonder about what it would truly be like to see the sun at midnight, or experience total darkness.

As an adult, I haven't had that opportunity (either way) except through the Internet.

Last year, through Eternal Sunset, I tracked a location in Antarctica and a location in Fairbanks, AK for an entire year. However, neither location has the true 24 hour swing - Fairbanks, for example, has a maximum daylight time of 21 hrs and 45 minutes (approximately.) They do have 24 hour "light"on the day of the summer solstice but the sun does set.

Now, I have, again through Eternal Sunset, found an actual 24 hour web cam location - in Norway. Svalbard and Longyearbyen, to be exact. Right now, as I write this, it is almost midnight. The sun is right on the horizon. The web cam is pointed at it. It is 28 degrees above zero, snow on the ground, and several people on snowmobiles are clearly visible. I wish I could be allowed to post a picture from this website. This is a childhood dream come true. What is it like to live there?

There are photos of this area, and stunning would not begin to describe it. What does the person who runs this website do for a living? Does he sleep at all during the arctic day? Has he ever been to more temporate climes? If so do our days and nights seem weird to him?

One day I will sign his guestbook, although I'd better not tell him about my obsession with the Midnight Sun. Some things are better left unsaid.

(2013 postscript - I follow a blog written in Fairbanks, AK.  The blogger, Sue Ann Bowling, is participating once again in the Word Count Blogathon.  She has just been diagnosed with ovarian cancer and is waiting for the pathology tests to come back.  Please drop by and send some good wishes her way.)

The Mayan Apocalpyse and the Eternal Sunset of the Spotting Mind

Thank you, Sue Ann Bowling, for alerting me to this website and making my arctic solstice dream come true.

Sue Ann Bowling is a fellow blogger - and also a resident of the Fairbanks, Alaska, area, a scientist and a science fiction writer.

I have blogged before about my fascination with the midnight sun - and the midday dark - including the dreams I used to have when I was a little girl.  I have never lived north of where I am currently living, near Johnson City, New York.  Yet, when I was a little girl, growing up in New York City, I had a number of vivid dreams about living in a place that had daylight past 11pm - or sometimes, almost total darkness at noon.  The constant light made me happy - especially the dreams of midnight light-  but when I looked at the stars in the darkness dreams, they frightened me.  (I do mean "little": these dreams are some of my earliest memories.)

You didn't glimpse many stars when growing up in the Bronx.  But I somehow knew the stars were "wrong".

Now, thanks to modern techology, I have seen the Alaskan day on the first day of winter.

The video shows time lapse photography of the sunrise in Fairbanks, Alaska - and the painful crawl of the sun across the horizon, only to set again less than 4 hours later.  Call me strange, but this video gave me chills.

Sue Ann Bowling describes "North Pole weather" every Monday on her blog, and I treasure her observations. 

She is a scientist.  I write from my feelings, without regard for the science.  She witnesses what she writes about.  I can only imagine, and try to reconcile the mysterious dreams of my childhood with her observations.

I don't know if I'll ever solve this mystery of my early childhood.  But I may come close.

Spring Things - The House of the Midnight Sun

Late spring.  Almost summer.  Here in upstate New York, we are almost at our maximum day length.  Only two more minutes to go. In fact, in a couple of days, our sunrises will start getting later.

This is as good as it gets.  And I love spring in upstate NY, don't get me wrong.  Right now the roses are blooming along with lillies.  And after a spring rain, flowers can look lovely.  But, it does make me long for the midnight sun I have never seen.

(Rose after rain on the West Side of Binghamton, NY taken by Ramblin' with AM).

I have never seen the midnight sun.  For all I know (as I am a very nervous flyer) I never will, at least in person. Upstate New York is a long way from Iceland, or Norway, Antarctica or even Alaska.

If I had a bucket list, seeing the midnight sun would be on it.  Why?  Because light at midnight breaks a basic rule of my life.  I grew up in New York City, and have lived in Florida, in Iowa, in Kansas, in Arkansas, and, for the past 25 plus years, upstate New York.

In all of those places, the sun rises every day.  It travels up in the sky.  Then it goes down and sets.  Then there is dark.  Repeat, 365 days a year.  It's one of those basic rules.  If the rule breaks, you become scared in a primeval way.  The world isn't right.  Just like, if you looked up at the dark sky, and the stars were all in places they didn't belong.


But the sunrise/sunset daily cycle doesn't happen the same way everywhere, and I've known that, within me, since I was a little girl.  I think I knew it before I ever learned about "why" in elementary school science.  I knew there were places where the sun did not set during some of the year, and did not rise during some of the year.  Or, the sun did rise or set, but not enough to matter.

I've blogged about the midnight sun (or midnight dark) on many occasions, including a post one year ago today.

Ironically, I visited Alaska once - in September, 1988. So the day length was about the same there as in upstate NY.  The quality of the light was different.  It was - well, not just dimmer.  It was different. Dusk seemed to go on for hours.

And the flowers - the flowers!  Nasturtiums with blooms practically the size of dessert plates (OK, I exaggerate) tumbling out of planters in Juneau.  Glaciers with ice so blue that I bought a blue topaz just to remember the color.  (We also saw banana slugs and moss covered roofs, but we won't go there.) 

I would love to see the Midnight Sun baseball game in Fairbanks, AK.  You'd be surprised how many major leaguers played ball in Fairbanks before they went on to bigger and better things.  They all got to see the midnight sun.   Arrrghhh.....

Thanks to the Internet, I can visit webcams, and blogs, that talk about life in these parts of the world.    I can even read the blog of the Midnight Sun baseball game.  And, I can see a video of Tom Seaver, who would go on to everlasting major league baseball fame playing for the NY Mets, playing as an amateur in the 1965 Midnight Sun game.  In Fairbanks, the sun does set, but still, they play the game without artificial light.

Until I can see it, I will dream and write about it in my blog. Who knows, maybe the reality won't be as good as my imagination.  And I think - if I had months with just three or four hours of sunlight a day, how could I ever grow houseplants with natural light?

There is that.  The months of dark.

Do you have a bucket list?  What is on it?

Land of the Midnight Dark

We are almost at the winter solstice.  We have about 4 more minutes to lose here in upstate NY.  But thankfully, we have an actual day - a sunrise, sunshine (sometimes) and finally the sun goes down.

I've always wondered what it is like to have no sunlight at all, for perhaps months on end.  I don't think the 24 hour days of late spring and early summer would ever make up for it.

And what about the native people in these areas?  What are their lives like?  What are their hardships, their joys?  How does the long winter, the swing between lots of sun and lots of dark, color their lives?

In August, I got a small glimmer of that life, in a YA book Blessing's Bead by Debbie Dahl Edwards. 

This is where a post that started out talking about the midnight dark turns....much darker.

The author of Blessing's Bead has now written a YA sequel called My Name is Not Easy.  The story, which has some biographical elements from her husband's life, takes place in the early 1960's.  The book shows that coping with the long dark is the least of the worries of a teenaged boy growing up in Alaska torn between two cultures.  Some of his experiences are harrowing and others are hard for us to understand.   But they all happened to natives of Alaska during that time period, a shameful period in our country's history.

The dark of their lives was not caused by the midnight dark.

What happens, for example, when a growing boy is prohibited from speaking his native language during the school year at his boarding school (beaten if he is found speaking his native language) and then goes home for the summer?  What happens when his younger brother is taken from his family by those same school authorities and sent to Texas to live with a white family?  What happens when the boy is the unwitting subject of a medical experiment performed by our government?

The story ends before the boy is grown, but a quick search of the Internet gives a peak into what happened to those men and women as adults.  It isn't pretty.

Once again, a YA book tackles a subject that deserves to be more well-known.

I will never think of the midnight sun in the same way again.

Eternal Sunsets of the Spotting Mind (An Encore Post)

At this time of year, we are close to our earliest sunset here in upstate NY.  Commuting home from work in the almost-dark reminded me of this post from 2009.  I haven't discussed this particular obsession for a while, but I have always been fascinated by the "midnight sun". I've always wanted to visit - oh, Alaska, or Iceland, or Norway, or somewhere with 24 hour light.  Or even, in the winter, 24 hour dark.  That wouldn't have been as much fun, perhaps...except if I could see the Northern (or Southern) lights.

Ironically, the one time I visited Alaska, it was in September when sunrise/sunset is pretty even no matter where on Earth you are. So I have never come close to 24 hour day.  Or 24 hour night.

I really did have the dreams I describe in my youth, and I have no idea why they sometimes frightened me.

One day.....I will experience in person....

Eternal Sunsets of the Spotting Mind

Back to my favorite website. And my childhood obsession with the 24 hour day.

When I was growing up in the Bronx,I used to have dreams about living in a place where the sun never set. In these dreams, sometimes the sun would set, but it would be very late at night. I would gaze out my window at 11pm (in my dream) and it would still be light. Sometimes, though, it was dark all the time. I would look at the stars, and they were different. This would, for some reason, frighten me.

When I found out that there were, indeed places which had 24 hour light and 24 hour dark, I began to wonder about what it would truly be like to see the sun at midnight, or experience total darkness.

As an adult, I haven't had that opportunity (either way) except through the Internet.

Last year, through Eternal Sunset, I tracked a location in Antarctica and a location in Fairbanks, AK for an entire year. However, neither location has the true 24 hour swing - Fairbanks, for example, has a maximum daylight time of 21 hrs and 45 minutes (approximately.) They do have 24 hour "light"on the day of the summer solstice but the sun does set.

Now, I have, again through Eternal Sunset, found an actual 24 hour web cam location - in Norway. Svalbard & Longyearbyen, to be exact. Right now, as I write this, it is almost midnight. The sun is right on the horizon. The web cam is pointed at it. It is 28 degrees above zero, snow on the ground, and several people on snowmobiles are clearly visible. I wish I could be allowed to post a picture from this website. This is a childhood dream come true. What is it like to live there?

There are photos of this area, and stunning would not begin to describe it. What does the person who runs this website do for a living? Does he sleep at all during the arctic day? Has he ever been to more temporate climes? If so do our days and nights seem weird to him?

One day I will sign his guestbook, although I'd better not tell him about my obsession with the Eternal Sunset. Some things are better left unsaid.

Civil War Sunday - Hardtack and Sailor Boy Pilot Bread

 
 What does Alaska, a specialty bakery in Virginia, and the Civil War have in common?

Last Sunday, I visited a Civil War exhibit at our local museum here in the Roberson Museum and Science Center in Binghamton NY. (I highly recommend this exhibit if you have an interest in the impact of the Civil War on the Southern Tier of New York and the Northern Tier of Pennsylvania.)

One of the items on exhibit was some genuine Civil War hardtack that a soldier had sent home. It was exhibited behind a piece of glass.   It looked just as good (or bad) as it did almost 150 years ago.  Not a speck of mold.

Apparently, this local soldier wasn't the only one who saved his hardtack as a souvenir.  It would seem there are some other pieces of Civil War Hardtack in museums.  The video above was made in Minnesota but the piece in Roberson looked about the same.

Yummy?  Civil War soldiers didn't think so.  One nickname was 'worm castles' because of the little weevils that inhabited the hardtack.

Hardtack was popular (with the people supplying food to the troops, that is) because it was cheap, and it was easy to transport.  And, it lasted a long time. (150 years, for example....)

How would the soldiers eat it?  Well, they might crumble it into coffee or soften it and then fry in bacon grease.  There are a number of sites giving information on hardtack.  The subject seems to be fascinating to a lot of people.  In fact, in Brunswick, Maine, which we visited in early September there are "Chamberlain Days" every August, celebrating their favorite son, Civil War hero Joshua Chamberlain. As part of the festivities they have a Civil War bake sale with - you guessed it, hardtack.

So, would anyone in their right minds enjoy hardtack today?

They sure do - in Alaska.  I found out about this when I read a young adult novel called Blessing's Bead earlier this year.  One of the staples of life for those in the remote villages is a cracker baked by a specialty bakery in Front Royal, VA.  You know the products of Interbake Foods - wafers used for ice cream sandwiches, Girl Scout cookies, and a product beloved in Alaska.


One of their products baked in Front Royal is something called Sailor Boy Pilot Bread.  Basically, it is hardtack, although apparently a little softer.  Alaskans love their Sailor Boy Pilot Bread and 98% of its sales are within Alaska.  They love it many ways - in soup, with melted cheese, even as the crust of a quick pizza.  Hunters find it convenient to put into their backpacks. It is survival food out on the tundra.  It is soul food for Alaskans in the city and in the bush.  And it is baked in Virginia.

From the Civil War to a bakery in the former Confederacy to thousands of fans in Alaska:   The Civil War always surprises me.

Aarigaa! The Midnight Sun Lives

It's been a while since I've written about my obsession with the midnight sun.

I've always wanted to learn more about the natives of Alaska who were the people of the midnight sun, too.  I had studied them a little bit when I majored in anthropology in college, but I wanted to know more.

I just found a book, short but packed with breathtaking writing, that did just that.

Sometimes I have no idea why I pick up a book.  I like to explore the Young Adult section of the Broome County library and sometimes a title or a picture just calls to me.

Recently, that happened with a book called Blessing's Bead, by Debby Dahl Edwards.  I really don't have any idea why I picked it up.  But I literally couldn't put it down, and not just because of its depictions of the midnight sun and the darkness of winter.   I learned so much more from this book.  If I used an Inuit rating system, I would give it 5 Aarigaas (their word for "Wow").

This is a story about a young woman, almost a teenager, of the Iñupiaq people. Some would call them Eskimos, although my understanding is that the correct word is Inuit.  Blessing is taken from her Mom by Anchorage's child protective service agency and sent (with her younger brother Isaac) to live with her grandmother who lives in a remote Inuit village above the Arctic circle.  This starts out as a very rough transition but ends happily in more ways than one.

Although Blessing's knowledge of the Iñupiaq language is limited when she arrives, she is able to understand it by the time the book ends.  This is no easy task, as illustrated by these words for the lack of sun. (the pronunciations are those given by the author.)

I learned the word Nippivik (nippy-vick)-  the time when the sun sets (November) Siqiñgilaq (see-kiny-gee-lyaq) the time of no sun, and Siqiññaatchiaq (si-kin-nyaht-cheeahk)  the time of the bright new sun (January).  I don't know if I will remember it.  But what words of power they are.          

However, the story did not begin with the story of Blessing (which takes place in 1989).  Rather, it started as the story of her great-grandmother Nutaaq, which starts in 1917 and continues into 1918.  Nutaaq's older sister Aaluk marries a Siberian Inuit that summer and travels back to his village to live.  Normally she would come back to visit annually during a trading fair.  But then, the Spanish flu epidemic arrives.  Nutaaq's mother, father, "nearly all the babies, and all the old ones, with the old knowledge we never yet learned" and basically most of the village, die.   Her descrition of the "Ones We Lost" is so beautiful it makes you cry.  A culture left adrift, so depressed they would not even care for their reindeer herds.  What would happen to them?

The survivors are called to a meeting and forced by a missionary to pick a new spouse. (This, and the flu epidemic, were historic events.) The survivors are married on the spot in a mass ceremony and adopt the young orphans.  Nutaaq, (one of the young women forced to marry) meantime, never sees Aaluk again.  Nutaaq has no idea if Aaluk, in Siberia, was taken by the great sickness.  What was called the "Ice Curtain" has come down, and the Siberian Inuit can not visit their Alaskan relatives, and vice versa.  They are separated by politics none of them understand.

When we skip ahead to 1989, the Alaskan Inuit of Blessing's adopted village speak a dialect called Village English, use snowmobiles, gather clams from the beach in plastic grocery bags and have managed to blend their traditional culture with the European culture around them.   They are Christian. They eat both Sailor Boy crackers and whale meat.  What would Tupaaq had thought? (this part was especially fascinating to me).

When the Iron Curtain came down in Europe, the Ice Curtain came down also, and Blessing is there when the first Siberian Inuit flight arrives at her village.  There is an old man with them.   He is Aaluk's son.

I normally don't do "book reviews" but this is a must read for all lovers of the midnight sun, and the land where it shines in the summer.  Even if we love it from afar.

And the bead?  Well, you'll just have to read the book yourself.

Angry Blueberry Birds

Saturday, we made our annual U-Pick blueberry journey to a local U-Pick farm called Castleberries, in Port Crane, NY (near Binghamton).  Both spouse and I love blueberries, and they keep a long time in the refrigerator.   We always pick once a year, and sometimes twice.

There's nothing like freshly picked blueberries (or any other fruit, for that matter): fresh, sweet, and warmed by the sun.  I don't put sugar nor cream on them.  I have always eaten them au naturel.

One interesting feature of this orchard is the way they scare birds away.  Birds are the bane of blueberry farmers.  On our way to Virginia a couple of weeks ago, we saw an orchard with nets draped over the bushes.  We sympathize.  Castleberries may do this, but they also have a special system in place, one they have used for years. We call it the Angry Birds system.  (long before the game of the same name.....)

Loudspeakers blare out what are probably bird distress calls.  Or maybe, in bird language, the recording is saying "horrible tasting berries!  Poison!  Stay away!"  At any rate, it is fun standing out there in the sun, enjoying the outdoors, and periodically hearing these frenzied birdcalls.  My son, when he was younger, used to get a kick out of it.  Which, I guess, shows how long this orchard has used this system because youngster is an adult now. 

It must work, because they have never updated it.

The variety of blueberries being picked was a new one to us.  I don't know its name but the bushes had an unusual habit - the branches drooped, almost weeping.  It wasn't the best set up for someone with a bad back (me) because I don't like to sit on the ground.  Sitting on the ground would be the best way to pick.  I decided not to do that.

Another strategy is to go to the back of the rows, because most people don't want to bother to walk all the way out to the far end of the picking area.

It was hard going between the rows and I got frustrated wading through blueberry branches - which, fortunately, do not have thorns.  But finally I found a bush loaded with berries, and I settled down to picking, sweat streaming down my suntan-lotion protected face. (Wegmans Dry SPF-55:  works great.)

We picked about 6 pounds, and will be sharing some with family when they come up in a few days.

The berries really are sweet, too:  so much better than the blueberries I sampled two weeks ago at a Virginia farmers market. 

I guess blueberries make August worthwhile.

The Midnight Sun

Today is Civil War Sunday and yes, I will blog about that later.

But I couldn't resist blogging about the midnight sun.  I don't know if it is truly "legal" to post screenshots from webcams and if I can't, I will take this down. 

Right now the sun is setting in Fairbanks, Alaska. The day is 21 hours and 47 minutes long.  And, for your viewing pleasure, this is what the University of Alaska webcam captured a few minutes ago.  The view is north.

How cool is that.

Do any of my readers live in a Midnight Sun area?  If so I would love to hear from you.

Eternal Sunshine of the Midnight Sun

It has been a while since I have blogged about my love affair with the midnight sun. 

When I was young, I dreamed dreams where it was light past 11pm.  I'd be looking out my window and everything was still daylight, and it seemed vaguely right.  I would also have dreams in which I looked at the  night sky and the stars weren't in the right place, and it frightened me.

At the time, I was growing up in New York City, not exactly the land of eternal sunshine.

I don't know how old I was, or if I knew about how the poles would have long days, and then long nights.  But those dreams were very vivid, especially the dreams of looking out my window close to midnight and it was still light.  For many years I've wanted to see the midnight sun in person.  Ironically, the one time I visited Alaska, it was in September. (and it was a part of Alaska where there was no midnight sun, at that.)

For the past four or so years, I have used a website called Eternal Sunset to track the sunrises and sunsets at several points of the earth:  Fairbanks, AK, Bernardo O'Higgins base in Antarctica, and Longyearbyen, Norway.   I don't do it as much now, but I've been viewing Fairbanks, as they are nearing their peak (which should be 21 hours and 46 minutes) of sunlight.

To go to the Fairbanks webcam at 2:30 am (Alaskan time) and see it light, still gives me chills.

One day I would like to go to Fairbanks and celebrate the solstice there.  I realize the sun does set (in the North!) in Fairbanks but their long dusks are enough for them to have 24 hour light.  And one day maybe I really, really will make it.

Northern Exposure and the Quest for the Midnight Sun

In the past year I've gotten into the TV show Northern Exposure (I had never watched it while it was on.) thanks to the local public library.

The one thing that immediately struck me was that the quality of the sunlight in "Cicely, Alaska" (the small town where the show took place) just did not seem right.  I've only been to Alaska once (and that was the southeastern part, around Juneau and Ketchikan) but I will never forget how different the sunlight looked.


"Cicely" didn't have that special light character.  And, for that matter, it seemed to have too much daylight in the winter period.




Never mind that they featured shows talking about the midnight sun (and the total dark) but something just didn't seem right.  The scenery looked right, but.....

Well, there's a reason for that:  "Cicely, Alaska" is really a small town in rural Washington by the name of Roslyn.

It really didn't spoil anything for me to know that.  Instead, I have a one day "I'll go there" that may be a bit more manageable than Fairbanks.  Fairbanks is almost a full day's airplane flight (actually, flights) from here, all of which seem to get there about midnight. A lot of effort.  Roslyn may be a bit more doable.

So, knowing that Cicely was not in Alaska:  that's what I get for my fascination with the midnight sun (and the noontime dark.)  The TV detective Monk would probably be proud of me.

Cold and Darkness in Alaska aka The Winter Solstice

It's time for my semi annual post regarding my fascination with the midnight sun in the summer...and the lack of it during the winter.  Here are the stats for Fairbanks, AK (it's about 6pm here in Upstate NY)

Today's statistics:

DECEMBER 21 2010..........SUNRISE  1059 AM AKST   SUNSET  241 PM AKST

The weather:  right now it is currently minus 13.

WEATHER ITEM   OBSERVED TIME   RECORD YEAR NORMAL DEPARTURE LAST     
                VALUE   (LST)  VALUE       VALUE  FROM      YEAR     
                                                  NORMAL             
..................................................................

TEMPERATURE (F)                                                     
 YESTERDAY                                                           
  MAXIMUM        -21    303 AM  40    1909   3    -24      -11       
  MINIMUM        -31    613 PM -48    1933 -16    -15      -24 

 More in another post.

Almost Time for Midnight Sun Baseball

You haven't heard me lately on my obsession with the midnight sun.

That's about to change.

For a while, Farmville made me forget my childhood obsession with the midnight sun.  Fear not, I have regained my senses.

Once again I visit the Fairbanks webcam at the University of Alaska to check the progress of the midnight sun  They are up to 21 hours and 42 minutes of daylight.  Today, at 2am (their time) it was quite light.

It still gives me chills to see that.


So, that reminds me that it is almost time for the Fairbanks Goldpanners Midnight Sun game.  Do you know what reminded me?  Well, last year we had gone to a Fathers Day old timers game in Cooperstown because I had to see Bob Feller pitch.   They were interviewing Bob Feller at the NY Mets game tonight.  So that reminded me of seeing Bill (Spaceman) Lee at that same Cooperstown game....and Bill Lee used to play for the Goldpanners.  That's how my thought process works, folks.

Who else played for the Goldpanners?  Dave Winfield, Tom Seaver, Graig Nettles and many, many other Major League ball players.

Just think.  I could see future major leaguers and the midnight sun, all at the same time.  What a bargain.

Perhaps I should add it to my "bucket list".

Back to the Midnight Sun

Between all the many things swirling around me, plus playing lots of Farmville on Facebook, I have been neglectful of the midnight sun in Fairbanks.

They only have another 1/2 hour or so to go for maximum daylight.  Now, if I log in at 6am, it is light on the U of Alaska webcam I like to view.

21 hours and 14 minutes of daylight.  Stuff of my dreams when I was young.

Dreams can still come true.

Not only that, it is going to be warmer in Fairbanks today than it will be here.  Hmmm., that has happened several times recently.

May today be a better day than yesterday, both for me and a friend I have been thinking of a lot recently.  She knows who she is.  The midnight sun has meaning for her too, memories of a happier time in her life.  We'll see how today goes for her.  May it bring good news for her.

The Midnight Sun arrives in Longyearbyen, Norway

April 17....the sun sets for the last time until fall in Svalbard, Norway (above the Arctic Circle).  Today, the sun will stay up....and up....and up.  Until fall.

Of coure the snow won't ever fully melt there but what the heck.

They are lucky, the prevailing winds are blowing the Icelandic volcanic ash away from them.

Here is a picture from a resident's window (this website is not written in English but Google will offer to translate it for you from the Norwegian).

Meanwhile, Fairbanks, AK came within two degrees of setting a record high for yesterday and we....well we continue our cool down.

The Sun Finally Shines on Longyearbyen, Norway

Finally, the wait is over.

Today:  Monday, February 15.  In Longyearbyen, Norway, the people will celebrate the first sunrise of the year.

Sunrise:  12:08 PM
Sunset:   12:17 PM (yes, a 9 minute day)

What is it like at noon during the 24 hour darkness?  This video on You Tube gives you a good idea, set to wonderful, haunting music. As does this video, complete with views of the Northern Lights.

Does Elderhostel (I know they are not called that anymore, but that is what many people know them as) give tours up there?  (Sigh....)

The Dark Season will be over soon.  On Tuesday the sun will be up nearly two hours.  And then it is uphill from here.  Soon enough, they will have their midnight sun back.