A Winter to Remember

Atlanta most certainly has put on a show this winter.  The Snowpocalypse of two weeks ago (which I was lucky enough to avoid) had people stranded in cars, at their workplaces, or in various restaurants, shops and private homes that opened their doors to complete strangers in a true display of Southern hospitality.

Good folks all over town headed out to the highways with hot drinks and food for those who were stuck on the treacherously icy roads.  I've been known to mock Atlanta drivers on occasion, but what happened here last month was no laughing matter - it was downright dangerous.  Roads large and small all over the greater Atlanta metro area were clogged.

This week we were better prepared, if only because schools closed and many workplaces asked their employees to work from home.  A far cry from 30 January, when cars and trucks littered the highways, this time the city became an overgrown ghost town.  Traffic cameras that two weeks ago displayed the extent of the chaos in 10 minute updates, now showed the few who were venturing out into the frozen stillness.  Many areas experienced power outages which added insult to injury.

But not all was doom and gloom.  The kids on my street built snowmen - one with a hard hat and another with a pink bonnet.  Families spent time together making candles, playing games and enjoying time seldom spent together.

Yesterday morning, before the sun came out and the city began to thaw, I woke to a layer of snow-covered ice on the trees, with a bright red cardinal who hung around long enough for me to grab my camera.  Seeing him sitting there in the confusion of branches brought to mind the closing lines of a poem my Mum used to have hanging on the wall:

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.*

* From Max Ehrmann, Desiderata 1927.

Bow Hunting in Alaska

Part 6 of the Alaska Series.  Click here to start reading at Part 1: Above the Arctic Circle.

This is one of my most favourite memories of our trip to Alaska.  Father and son moose-hunting team The Petes (otherwise known as Big Pete and Little Pete), camp guides Dan, Cecil and Chris, and I were sitting in the cook tent after breakfast, playing Farkle.  If you've never played this game, you're missing out on a bunch of fun.  Especially using Cecil's rules, which state you have to score exactly 10,000 to win. 

Playing Farkle in the cook tent

After a couple of rounds of Farkle, Little Pete asked me if I'd be able to photograph him at target practice with his hunting bow.  He wanted a photo of the arrow right before it hit the target.  Welllllll I'm up for a challenge, so we headed out to the airstrip.

After a few warm-up shots, Pete declared he was ready.  First, however, we needed to figure out how I'd know when to start shooting, to catch the arrow in flight.  I suggested that I count down from three and then he'd let loose.  It went something like this:

Me:     "Okay ready?  Three -"
LP:     [lets arrow fly - it hits target with a resounding THUNK!]
Me:     "SERIOUSLY?"
LP:     "Shut up."

Chris and Cecil enjoying the fun

But Pete is pretty darn good with a bow and arrow, leaving me to be the one having difficulties timing the shot.  Even at a continuous four frames per second burst, the photo below is the closest I got the arrow to the target.  Not bad for a first time, though!

Straight and true

Pete got what he came to Alaska for - he nabbed a moose, using a bow and arrow.  Now that's a serious beastie and some major bow hunting skills.

Pete and his moose.  Photo used with permission.

Next up:  The Northern Lights