I love snow.
From the 4th grade until I graduated from college, I lived in Kansas and Iowa. There was plenty of snow. So much so that it lost some of its mystique.
Then I moved to Oregon, where in the valley one was lucky to have snow once a year. We usually get the type of wet snow that melts on impact. Two things happen: 1) Oregonians lose their minds and forget how to drive and 2) Locals go to stores and stock up for weeks, even for one day of snow.
Most of the weather we experienced while in Fairbanks was sunshine with either fluffy or dangerous looking clouds.
Before traveling to Alaska, we were told that there was little chance of snow in September. And yet for days before we began our trip to Fairbanks, I checked my weather app several times a day. I wanted clear skies for the Northern Lights and cloudy for snow. That’s not asking too much for a six day vacation, is it?
I got both wishes!! The day before we left, we received the most beautiful snow. Huge fluffy flake families would come down at once. I would step out occasionally just to stand with no coat, arms stretched out, letting the flakes melt into me.
Mostly I would move from window to window, checking out the view.
Because it was a vacation in honor of my husband searching for his roots, I found a large rock and drew the Fox name in snow. It seemed like the perfect thing to do on our last day in Fairbanks.
Robert was as giddy as I was when it came to the snow. After cleaning off the car, he decided to bring me in a slice.
When the temperature dipped and the remaining snow turned to ice, we left the hotel for one last skate around town.
The next morning we skated to the airport and hopped a plane headed for home. After a bit of de-icing, we were on our way.
The view from the window upon arrival (all those birch and evergreen trees crafting a mosaic of gold and green) was hidden under a blanket of snow.
Thank you Fairbanks, for a wonderful vacation!