And the north wind ever blows

After Ben squeezed in a religious sunrise surf session at Hilo with whales spouting in the distance, we boarded a metal box that dumped us off in a land of freezing temperatures, tall banks of concrete snow, and hungry moose. It has been a cold slap in the face of how much harder you've got to work to stay alive up here in AK. The last five days have been busy of digging out my Subaru which was buried to the roof, hauling water, fixing the stove pipe which was sacrificed when the cabin roof avalanched, and hauling by hand more firewood to feed the ever hungry stove. In a twisted way I am completely happy when I have to strap on my bunny boots, wrap my scarf around my neck, and pull on the mittens to face the elements and shuttle another load of wood to the furnace, or haul that sled of wood down the path and stack it in wait for the chopping block. Evenings are full of smiles and laughter from friends, slowly spilling stories as we sip wine and warm our bellies with food. In some ways it is a polar opposite way of life than Hawaii, but in others it couldn't be more the same.

Dirt work

I scrape the dirt out of my fingernails and wipe the sweat off my brow. At long last Ben and I have a real project to dream about, pour energy into, and watch fruit forth into reality: working hard on clearing Ben's land for his family and momma, the old fashioned way with sweat and muscle. When Ben first pulled up to his little lot outside of sleepy ranchland, Na alehu, I gasped at the jungle of 3 meter high Christmas Berry trees dominating every inch of the lot. It was so thick there was not even a place to park the car and we had to belly crawl to reach the ancient stone wall marking the back border. After a few hours here and there whenever we are camping out on the land, we have cleared out an area for 3 cars to park, started a drive way, built a kitchen and fire circle area, stone walls defining paths, and stone steps carved out by hand. Most impressively, thanks to Ben's motivation, at least a third of the land is cleared. The biggest grassy clearing nestled next to the lava rock wall is our favorite spot to sip our tea as we watch the moon rise over the ocean and the stars peak out at an intensity I have only found at the heights of most remote corners of Colorado. But this time, we can lay out on our backs with no need for blankets or down coats. We fall asleep to the sound of cattle, wild pigs, owls, and cats meowing through the night. We wake with dawn as a chorus of rooster and bird calls erupt with the rising sun, never late, and always anxious to start the fresh new day.