Video: 08 Jan 2020 Trickling Water Over Sea Ice

It was cold. Really cold. In fact, it hadn’t been over negative Fahrenheit for over a month, and it was only January. Winter lasts a long time in Alaska. It would be another two months before it would raise past single digits. Just a few days prior I had suffered a traumatic physical experience which saw me in shock and bleeding without stopping for hours, which turned into days.

I was weak. Body and soul. I was hurting. I was alienated. I needed to get outside. Let nature touch me as only it can. I was driven to the beach at my request and out I clambered of the truck, ice and negative degrees be damned.

Typically, the waves are crashing on my beach but today, it was calm. So calm and quiet. The sea water was freezing. Laying micro-thin layers and layers of ice on the sand, rocks, coal, and sticks which litter the beach. On top of the gently moving water was a thin layer of ice as well, though this was broken into small sheets with the movement constantly mushing them together and breaking them apart. These ice rafts varied in size and sat just slightly below the surface.

It was divine. It was magic. It was healing. I squatted near the edge of the high-tide mark, looking out at it all. Trying not to breathe in too deep because it was so cold in my lungs. Tears ran down my cheeks and they burned and froze.

Questions flooded my mind. Why do these things happen? What if….? Gratefulness, in spite of it all. I will be okay. But what if…? No point in obsessing. Look around. It’s so damn beautiful. I’ve never seen the beach just like this. And tomorrow it will be different. It will be the same. But it will be different. Like me. Tomorrow is a new day. I will never be who I was yesterday again.

I am the same. I am different.

tara caribou | ©2021

*video and story are mine from this same time last year. My how the days and months roll on…

25 Comments on “Video: 08 Jan 2020 Trickling Water Over Sea Ice

  1. Quite beautiful: relaxing and healing in the way that only nature can be. Yes, every tiny (or major in the case of your recent accident) experience leaves us changed yet still the same. Thoughtfully put, Tara.
    I’m not sure how well I would cope in such a long winter – mind you I do live in a country that grinds to a halt in panic when we get an inch of snow!
    Take care.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Hahaha! I totally understand about grinding to a halt. When I lived in the lower 48, I remember just such a thing happening. But here we are used to it. Winter is about six months in this area. But I love winter and autumn best, so I am quite content here. It’s definitely not for everybody. I also was born and raised in this general vicinity, so I guess it’s in my blood. ❄️💕

      Liked by 1 person

  2. How incredibly peaceful and beautiful. An icy sea, so clean and fresh it can wash the dark thoughts away. Every day we are different and hopefully, better.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Lots to deep questions to unpack here. You’re right. We are always changing and yet still ourselves–perhaps always moving toward what we were always supposed to be. Everyday is a chance to restart and feel refreshed. Have a great day!

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Such is the healing journey. Full of gratitude, questions and often pain. All so powerful and beautiful how you described it. There is always a new day – with us the same and then very different than yesterday!

    Liked by 2 people

The Peddler

Art Consignments in Ninilchik, Alaska

The Pegasus Fiasco

Apologies for my apologies


Poetry by Charles Joseph

Rum and Robots

We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive

Robert Charboneau.

Writer and Artist

living document

a collection of short poetry from an autistic mind

Anonymously Hal

Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts


The Lies in the Skies Exposed

Writer In Retrospect

"When I am writing, I am trying to find out who I am..." --Maya Angelou

The Tigress Awakens

Welcome to my tiny corner of the universe filled with poems that I have written.


Author | Freelance Writer | Blogger



Better Letters

Butterwell's Blog

my life as a piece of string

... from a silent space

%d bloggers like this: