Where'd that come from?
Alaska is a quirky kind of place, people don’t care much for rules, home-owners’ associations, or “fitting-in.” This attitude gives Alaska its flavor, that ambiance of living on the wild side, being your own person. In some ways, it is a nice change from the Lower 48 and the “keeping up with the Jones” syndrome.
Autumn is when I notice this phenomenon the most. The summer foliage is thick and lush in Alaska. Driving along our two-lane roads is almost like driving in a tunnel of greens with a blue sky above. It is difficult to see much more than a few mailboxes next to the road. Then one day, there is a chill in the air, and almost overnight the leaves turn from greens to yellows. The afternoons are crisp with a warm sun and a slight breeze. The surrounding mountains have a light blanket of snow.
As the leaves turn to a darker gold, the wind picks up and they begin to fall. That’s when you notice the house across the way—was it always there? More leaves fall and driving down the road you see several cars tucked away from the road about 25 yards. They’ve been there for a long time, the Birch trees growing in front and behind them are almost mature…
The trees are nearly bare now, the curtain of leaves lifted to expose the yard art, the thriftiness of those who hang on to things that might come in handy later, and neighbors you never knew you had.
