A Blog of Personal Thoughts

May 2026 in Alaska

Why not start off with two pictures that seem bizarre, even for southern Alaska on May 1!

View out to the front porch, which has collapsed from the weight of snow on a 28-year-old porch with a poor foundation. May 1, 2026. It’s spruce needles that cover the snow here in this forest.

View out my study window on May 1, 2026

True, I live in Alaska. True, we had 19.1 feet of snow this winter. True, we live in the forest and get no direct sun in winter. However, this is exceptional even for us. I’ve never lived anywhere where we had 19 feet of snow in one winter.

The scene in January 2026.

Our front porch January 2026.

The cost? The first shed built on the property leans from the weight of its snow cover. Why did we not remove the snow from all the roofs? We were busy keeping the paths and one drive shoveled, plowed, and snow-blown. The storm started December 29 with a foot a day for 11 days. The rest of the snow came in dribbles for the next two months. By dribbles I mean we had days of pause between more snow or less than a foot a day.

In addition to the shed leaning and the collapsed front porch, we also lost a small shed, the house chimney leaked, and the roof of my studio needed to be shoveled whenever it has a foot or more of snow. The leaking wood stove chimney left two and a half gallons of water in its bottom. Rugs on the first and second floors were wet. The skylight didn’t leak, but we have a nasty crack in the ceiling nearby. Maybe if we’d been here in March and April, the house and buildings might have fared better.

The first eight feet of snow were very light and fluffy, good skiing weather, but I was too busy shoveling my way in and out of the decks and paths to take time to ski. Further, how would I get from a shoveled path or plowed drive up eight feet to ski in these wonderful conditions; I didn’t even try.

Fast forward toward the end of February when I stood up at my desk to get on the exercise bike. Halfway up I froze in extreme pain. I couldn’t finish standing or sit back down. As it turned out, I think I fractured my hip at that moment. I think I had too much walking on uneven surfaces of snow. On the last Wednesday, a doctor informed me I wasn’t leaving the next day for Fisher Poets Gathering in Oregon. “You get to go to bed, the bathroom, and watch television.” I asked this very serious orthopedic surgeon if I could read a book. He gave a short grin and said yes. I was in surgery a few days later. I had a knee replacement last July with no pain, unheard of, but this hip pre- and post-surgery was agony. I’m sure I would have needed a hip replacement eventually, but the amount of snow and uneven surfaces didn’t help.  

I look at my gardens at the house. Where are my rhubarb plants? One April, I had made a rhubarb pie in April. I can’t even tell where any of my garden boxes are yet. Next to the house, I see delicate pink peony shoots an inch high. I see purple tulip leaves and crocuses two inches tall. Aren’t tulip leaves supposed to be green? Is it still so cold for them?  

Winter has always been my favorite season because I like snow and prefer cold weather. But this is ridiculous! We had more snow than Anchorage and Fairbanks combined. I guess we just got lucky. This winter in Southeast Alaska has not been for the faint of heart.

We leave in a few days for three weeks. It is only a fanciful wish that all the snow will be gone when we return. After the winter of 15.5 feet of snow, our last snow pile left on June 10. I’m not taking bets, but I wonder when the last snow will leave us this summer.

We’re due for an El Nino this coming winter. I think I will enjoy a winter of rain. These last two photos are when it’s beautiful!

Beautiful in Douglas. View of Robert in front of Seth & Abby’s house one April day.

View out our apartment window in Douglas of Mt. Juneau and Mt. Roberts.