Post by karlsie on Aug 14, 2011 16:44:06 GMT -5
Summer rushes out almost as quickly as it stampedes in, the spreading greenery reaching full maturity in two short months. By the first part of August, the summer blossoms are over-blown and turning to seed. The hours of sunlight have grown short enough that by midnight the sky is pitch black and will remain that way for several hours. The early to bed people might not notice this too much, but truthfully, when summer comes to Alaska, there aren't many who retire early to bed. The summer heats up into rounds of camping trips, fishing, gardening, barbeques and all night baseball. You almost forget what evening is until it slowly but steadily returns.
Our summers usually end, sometimes abominably, with the rain season, which can come as early as the end of June and extend its way into September. We were lucky this year. Sunny skies marked the months of summer's longest hours of daylight and the rain season held off until August. We knew immediately when the true rain season began rolling in.
The clouds roll steadily off the mountains, piling up and bouncing between the Chugach and the Talkeetnas. They cannot squeeze themselves between the narrow channel of the two ranges and spend their water weight on the low lying Cook Inlet and the Matanuska Valley.
Near summer's end, the berries begin to ripen. The wilderness flourishes with blueberries, raspberries, cranberries, currents, rose hips and watermelon berries.
This raspberry bush is indigenous. I once tried domestic raspberries, but the flavor is not as tart, nor were the bushes able to compete very well with aggressive indigenous plants. By hacking away the competing alders, fireweed and horse mint, the indigenous raspberries were able to flourish. I began picking them Friday and hope to get the rest before our rain season brings them all down.
The fireweed is one of the best indicators of summer's end. As soon as it begins going to seed, winter is just around the corner. I was posted a photo that showed the virulence of fireweed, but readers asked how tall it could grow.
This photo was taken of our young, aspiring writer, Daniel, who i'm sure you'll hear more from as he works up his courage to post his work. Daniel is six feet tall. As you can see, the fireweed is a little bit taller. It has seeded out quite a bit, which is why the blossoms aren't quite so prolific. There is a tale concerning fireweed; that its growth is an indication of how much snow there will be in the winter. If that's the case, we're in for a shit load of snow this year.
Our summers usually end, sometimes abominably, with the rain season, which can come as early as the end of June and extend its way into September. We were lucky this year. Sunny skies marked the months of summer's longest hours of daylight and the rain season held off until August. We knew immediately when the true rain season began rolling in.
The clouds roll steadily off the mountains, piling up and bouncing between the Chugach and the Talkeetnas. They cannot squeeze themselves between the narrow channel of the two ranges and spend their water weight on the low lying Cook Inlet and the Matanuska Valley.
Near summer's end, the berries begin to ripen. The wilderness flourishes with blueberries, raspberries, cranberries, currents, rose hips and watermelon berries.
This raspberry bush is indigenous. I once tried domestic raspberries, but the flavor is not as tart, nor were the bushes able to compete very well with aggressive indigenous plants. By hacking away the competing alders, fireweed and horse mint, the indigenous raspberries were able to flourish. I began picking them Friday and hope to get the rest before our rain season brings them all down.
The fireweed is one of the best indicators of summer's end. As soon as it begins going to seed, winter is just around the corner. I was posted a photo that showed the virulence of fireweed, but readers asked how tall it could grow.
This photo was taken of our young, aspiring writer, Daniel, who i'm sure you'll hear more from as he works up his courage to post his work. Daniel is six feet tall. As you can see, the fireweed is a little bit taller. It has seeded out quite a bit, which is why the blossoms aren't quite so prolific. There is a tale concerning fireweed; that its growth is an indication of how much snow there will be in the winter. If that's the case, we're in for a shit load of snow this year.