Strawman in the Wizard of Oz

Anchorage at times is the center of wind storms.  We can be buffered from the North, the West and the South winds.  

Anchorage is in a bowl along the Chugach Mountain Range.  Many folks have built homes going up the mountain which we call the "hillside"  Winds gushing there can be 70 to 100mph.  With the speeds a bit less here in town.

The last two days has been major wind storms throughout the Anchorage Bowl.  This extends 40 miles South of Anchorage reaching Girdwood and 60 miles North to the outskirts of Wasilla.

Our little house is anchored in a bit of a valley here in town; one of the few actually... most of Anchorage is pretty flat.  The winds reached a good tree slapping 55-65mph last night.  It was a bumpy night with many strange bangs and clangs against the outside walls.  There were a few blasts that I thought this tiny house might go sailing through the air just like Dorothy's house in the Wizard of Oz.

With my fingers crossed all night for no power outage (which the temperature with wind chill -20) that would not be making for a toasty sleepy night.  We do own a generator although in the 4 years of owning it - it has never been powered up.  

I do believe a test and practice run of using the generator is in order...due to the severe wind storms this winter making my little old heart a tad nervous if I had to sleep again with such vivid dreams of a movie from decades ago.

All night my dreams seem to follow the characters in the Wizard of Oz.  The Tinman slamming into the side of our house, the Strawman tumbling over and over in the snow.  My fearless Patches the Cowardly Lion.  I the wicked witch of the East riding out the storm on my trusty broom.  And my guy the Wizard...telling all "Follow the yellow brick road!"

After this mornings quick check to see if any damage to our house and those on either side of me; I was happy to see just branches tossed throughout the yard and Mountain Ashe Berries littering the side yard.  My trees withstood the storm. Seems most of the litter that blew around; has been blown far south. I may find my trash can lids a few miles down the road tomorrow.

I wanted to tap my heels three times and say "There's no place like home".  There is no place like Home!

The snow did drift about one foot south over our sidewalk.  And added a layering effect on the other side.

Moose Tracks

Moose live in, around, and thrive in Anchorage, Alaska. 

In my neighborhood we see a moose just about every other day.  My backyard has a creek that runs out to Cook's Inlet.  Moose follow this ancient trail in and out.  Mostly in...then they help themselves to my flowers, plants, garden delights and they love my Mountain Ashe tree during the winter. 

Luckily the moose leave my two lilac bushes alone.  Small favor indeed but priceless to me!  Lilacs are my favorite flower.

Lately a bull moose avoiding hunters and seeking out females in heat has been stalking the neighborhood.  My cockatiels become frantic when this monster is moving about our yard.  He is huge.  I would guess his rack span is well over 9 feet from one side to the other.  His shoulders are wider than any I've seen on the moose around here in last few years.  If I was a female moose my tail would be swishing for him for sure.  He is one handsome dude!

I'm betting his mommy is the female that has used our lower backyard as her nursery for the last 10 years.  For him to be traveling through our yard means he is one of the twins born a few years back.  He is prime bull moose this year!  Can't wait til spring to see his babies hobbling along in the yard.  Learning from their mom of the Ancient Trail for Moose in West Anchorage.

Mind Walking with Ghosts

Fog is one thing that scares me.  My imagination runs wild.

Ghosts walk, vampires strike, Jack the Riper comes a calling.

And planes can't fly.

Anchorage has been seeing a weather pattern this past week of one that is most unusual: Fog.

We are socked in every morning, several days the fog never lifted.  Last 3 days lifting by noon and giving Anchorage glorious blue skies.

I once wrote a short story that terrified my readers.  That story lead off with fog, a playground and a little girl. 

I need to get back to writing short stories and poetry - I miss that part of my mind's creativity.  A college professor once stated "you are a gifted writer You are a poet; I eagerly await to see what you write each assignment"  she wrote this on one of my papers in bright red ink Circled and underlined so I would not miss her comment; I still have that sheet of words somewhere in my treasures from the past.

I step away and give you Fog ~  Mind Walking with Ghosts