Frosted world
When I woke up this morning, I looked outside and discovered a dusting of snow on the ground. I figured the temperature must have dropped because it was misting yesterday. I could hear the wind howling past my building.
If I was anywhere else in the world, I would write next that winter had officially arrived, but I suppose "winter" is a relative term around here. In some ways, it's winter year-round - you know, being the Arctic and all - but in other ways, I know this is only the beginning. This isn't winter. This is barely even fall.
And I love it.
My respect for Svalbard residents (Svalbardians?) increased during my walk to UNIS. I was being graciously carried along by the down-valley wind, and I had to stop myself from giggling at the grimacing faces of those headed the other way. Longyearbyen Skole (= school) is located up-valley, so the schoolkids were traveling both uphill and up-wind. Make no mistake: these kids are hard-core. Every single one of them was riding a bicycle.
As I got closer to UNIS, I passed through "downtown" Longyearbyen, so the density of the buildings increased. I noticed a whistling sound off to my right, and then all of a sudden, there was a chorus of whistling wind voices. High pitches and low pitches twisted around each other, reverberated off the mountains, and faded away in alternation - almost like a flute choir that's slightly out of tune.
Now, I have heard the wind whistle before, but never like this. At one point, I could hear 5 distinct pitches, each coming from a different direction. The air must begin to vibrate as it rushes past the buildings in downtown. It really was quite incredible.
It was a great start to what will hopefully be a productive day.
If I was anywhere else in the world, I would write next that winter had officially arrived, but I suppose "winter" is a relative term around here. In some ways, it's winter year-round - you know, being the Arctic and all - but in other ways, I know this is only the beginning. This isn't winter. This is barely even fall.
 |
| The view out my window this morning. |
And I love it.
My respect for Svalbard residents (Svalbardians?) increased during my walk to UNIS. I was being graciously carried along by the down-valley wind, and I had to stop myself from giggling at the grimacing faces of those headed the other way. Longyearbyen Skole (= school) is located up-valley, so the schoolkids were traveling both uphill and up-wind. Make no mistake: these kids are hard-core. Every single one of them was riding a bicycle.
As I got closer to UNIS, I passed through "downtown" Longyearbyen, so the density of the buildings increased. I noticed a whistling sound off to my right, and then all of a sudden, there was a chorus of whistling wind voices. High pitches and low pitches twisted around each other, reverberated off the mountains, and faded away in alternation - almost like a flute choir that's slightly out of tune.
Now, I have heard the wind whistle before, but never like this. At one point, I could hear 5 distinct pitches, each coming from a different direction. The air must begin to vibrate as it rushes past the buildings in downtown. It really was quite incredible.
It was a great start to what will hopefully be a productive day.
Comments
Post a Comment