Hey, Mother Nature, enough with the winter wonderland thing in Anchorage, OK? I'll grant you, the town looks like your classic Christmas storybook setting, every surface etched in charming white. But I'm tired of living inside a wintry cloud. If I wanted to spend days on end in a claustrophobia-inducing cocoon of ice crystals or snow, unable to see more than a few hundred yards, I'd live in Fairbanks.
I got so desperate for relief on Saturday, I drove to the highest point I could find, hoping to get above the layer of fog that sat on top of us for days. Just before reaching Glen Alps, I broke through into the clear -- only to find a small bank of clouds in the southern sky was blocking the sun.
That was a cruel trick, lady. (I admit, seeing mountains to the north and west, sticking up above the seemingly endless blanket of fog and glowing white in the distant sunlight, was impressive.) But I was there for a direct dose of sunshine and, having driven all that way, I wasn't going to give up.
I waited as the sun inched its way up the sky, just enough to clear the clouds. Sitting in my car, listening to the radio, I spent an hour reacquainting my eyes with the atmospheric phenomenon known as ultraviolet radiation. I rolled down the window and actually felt a slight glow of solar warmth on my cheek.
It helped -- but not enough to forgive you for Sunday's ice fog or the days-long snow you sent since then.
Twenty-nine years ago, I moved to Anchorage from the temperate zone, eager for real winters and guaranteed snow for Christmas.
You've got that covered, Mother Nature, and I really do appreciate it. Now the next item on my Christmas list is a little sunshine.
-- Matt Zencey