Eskimo Snowshoeing

The ocean is one of my favorite creatures.  Although we classify only animals and humans as those who have physical hearts, I would say that the ocean has one too, somewhere, and is a living, thriving, terrifying creature who also has a calming presence.  The size of it alone reminds me of the vastness and depths of human experience and that there is always so much more to know. 

Snowshoeing along a rocky shoreline combines two beautiful colors on a sunny day: a blinding white and the boldest blue.  I wonder how many places you can do this type of walking in the world where two sides of the same compound of nature meet at the beach: water and snow.  

In Spanish, the word blue is azul and somehow that "z" does the New England winter blue more justice.  It adds an extra zealous quality.  It sounds stronger and bolder.  I can also see why tribes in Alaska distinguish kinds of snow with their words: 

Aput: Snow on the ground  

Qana: Falling snow  

Piqsorpoq: Drifting snow  

Qimuqsuq: Snow drift  

(+ up to 40 more)

Or sea ice:

Utuqaq: Ice that lasts year after year

Siguliaksraq: "Patchwork layer of crystals that form as the sea begins to freeze"

Auniq: "Ice that is filled with holes, like Swiss Cheese"

The words we use reflect the way we see the world. 

This winter, I noticed that the snow was very light and fluffy when it first fell.  I would term this "best-shoveling-snow" as an everyday resident but "powder" as a skier or "terrible-snowman-building-snow" as a child.  I've also noticed the flakes this year.  At times, they look more as how the flakes looked in Oregon: Dippin Dots, the ice cream that is made up of a bunch of tiny compacted kernals.  Or perhaps they are "tiny eggs from the sky" or "soft white beads". 

By the end of the day it compacts to a denser snow.  After days and weeks the top layer becomes a crunchy icy skin, like cake with frozen butter icing that you break into with your fork.  "Wedding cake snow", "nails on a chalkboard snow", "caramel topping" or "hardened icing".  

Crunch. 

This snow will be gone before we know it and my snowshoes will return to the trunk of my car.  Back to the ocean all of this snow will go - melting away and becoming water again.  I can only imagine the puddles that Spring will bring.  

The snow will reinvent itself into something new, just as we do everyday.