Happy sunset to you!

I had a slow, restful weekend. After experiencing a sudden onset of physical symptoms, I knew I needed covid testing in order to return to work safely. My hospital currently tests symptomatic employees twice, twenty-four hours apart. Between episodes of getting cotton swabs shoved gently-but-uncomfortably far into my nose, I spent most of my weekend curled up in the bed or curled up by the fire.*

Our monster of a wood stove feels like it could heat the whole neighborhood. We currently have one cord of wood stacked beneath our front porch, and another waiting to be stacked beneath our back porch. (What is a cord of wood, you ask? Great question! We just learned, too. A cord is a stack of firewood, approximately 4 feet high, 8 feet long, and 128 cubic feet in volume. Not sure if it’ll get us through the winter, but at least now we know how to order it and stack it!)

I’ve been prepping for Arctic weather since early summer; now that it’s chillier, I’m grateful for my borderline obsession. Fall is coming fast and hard, with winter close behind it. I was surprised to learn that here in Alaska, we actually get four full seasons. (Now, Alaska is a large, large, LARGE state. Click here to learn more. So when I say “here in Alaska,” I mean the southern peninsula. It’s also important to note that the marine climate in which I live is actually quite mild and temperate compared with the rest of the state and several Midwestern states.) I can’t speak to spring or winter, yet, but the summer was glorious. The sun set around midnight and rose hours before we awakened. The temperature hit seventy degrees on a regular basis. Our noses turned pink when we forgot to reapply sunscreen. We hiked on Wednesdays and Saturdays and Sundays and even broke a sweat a few times. There were boat rides and beach campfires. We observed the pace of the Alaskan during this season (play hard, fish enough for the entire year, play hard, tend to your garden and harvest enough for winter jars and cans, play hard some more). We crossed everything off of our summer bucket list. Thanks, God.

The transition to autumn in August feels appropriate, almost as if the weather follows the unspoken rules of books and movies and whimsy. Sweaters are necessary during the first week of school. The hot pink fireweed blooms begin to blow off, and its leaves slowly start to turn red. The fishermen and fisherwomen come home for the season. The restaurants and shops on the spit begin to close down. (What is the spit, you ask? Great question! The Homer Spit is a 4.5 mile finger-like projection of land that juts out into the Kachemak Bay. It holds our harbor, as well as picturesque beaches and a bustling boardwalk. Learn more here.)

I feel as ready as I can be for the dark days ahead. I bought the happy light. I take the Vitamin D. I’ve got an excellent counselor. I’m researching outdoor cold weather hobbies. I’m building a closet of gorgeous sweaters. I asked Instagram for cold weather advice, and Instagram delivered. I know that the lack of sunshine ahead is the price we pay for the continuous three months of sunshine we just enjoyed. I saw the moon this week, and I realized I couldn’t remember seeing it since the day we left South Carolina.

All in all, I await winter with anticipation. I’m ready for whatever autumn has to offer, with one exception. I do not appreciate the rapidly changing sunset times. On August 1, the sun went down at 10:32pm. Tonight, the last night of August, it will set at 9:09pm. I find this to be aggressive, pushy, and a bit rude. I’d rather be gently ushered into the next season. Fortunately, Chris came up with a fix for that.

Enter, home automation. I was slow to pick up on it, but my dear husband had his own way of coping with our move. While I spent many moments standing on our balcony, feeling the ocean breeze on my face and listening to the wind chimes Chris surprised me with when we arrived, he actually spent many moments ordering smart lights for every fixture he could outfit. This is an interesting distinction, as he typically connects more with nature and I love to shop online. Anyway, I looked up one day and realized I could tell the lights or the music to do whatever I wanted, in any room, and get a response. Chris uses an app to build “scenes,” where lights and music and sound effects work together in a theme.

We have a disco scene, which is particularly nice after dinner. As the kids clear the table, all of the main floor lights flash in different colors while Motown music plays. We also have a Star Wars scene, which is hilarious because we don’t have any good Star Wars costumes left in the house. By golly, the kids will make do with what they’ve got and stoically enter a room full of red light to the tune of The Imperial March. Chris has even set up scenes in the kids’ bedrooms, which helps with both bedtime routines and waking up for school.

What does a smart home have to do with aggressive sunsets? Chris made us a sunset scene. No matter what time the sun begins sink away, the house lights now turn pink, accompanied by a sweet chime sound. Chris and I make a point to stop what we’re doing and look at one another. Happy sunset to you. Bring it on, autumn.

*I feel much better today and both tests were negative!