Iceberg Graveyard

April is the month when I notice tiny birds pecking in the brown grass, look around at the blue sky, turn my face toward the bright sun, and think to myself Yay! Spring is here! After counting five straight days of dry pavement, I nudge my husband. My annual declaration of "I think it's time to take the snowtires off the minivan" is usually followed the very next day by a raging storm that leaves at least half a foot of snow on the ground. 

Spring is not a lot of fun in Alaska. We call this time of year "Break-Up." It involves snowing and melting, thawing and freezing, expanding and retracting. And mud. Lots and lots of mud. Still, there's a certain appeal to dirty water.

If you walk down to the edge of the trees,

you can see for yourself.

The silty water rushes quickly by,

carrying large chunks of ice away from land.

As the tide goes out,

lopsided icebergs settle down to rest on the muddy flats.

Dinner last night: Italian chicken strips, fruit salad