I woke to a winter wonderland this morning. I usually get home sick around this time despite being over 20 years removed from where I was raised. Not sure if I can still call myself an Alaskan but whenever the snow begins to fall I’m reminded of the land and mountains that nurtured my spirit when I was a child. My mother’s yearly “care packages” of moose, smoked salmon, king crab and Fireweed honey often beats back the winter blues, so I’m watching and waiting patiently for the mailman to bring me my box of treats packed with hugs and kisses, from the land of the Midnight Sun, that me and my other half devour like two little kids in a donut shop. It’s a yearly delight that I treasure as Nature draws another year to its end with the sleep of cold winds and blankets of snow before allowing another to spring into it’s beginning.