Darkness in Fairbanks

Up here in Fairbanks, darkness is eating away at the edges of our days up, and now a deeper colder is settling in. Walking my German shepherd before work involves suiting up in a parka, snowpants, and a headlight so I can see where we’re going because out here in the wilderburbs, there are no streetlights. Each morning we follow the funnel of light, Chase leading the way, snuffling his nose deep into tracks where a fox has passed across the snow, or pausing to gaze up the road as headlights flare–a neighbour on their way to work. Some days he stops dead still and the fur on his hackles rises, and together we peer into the darkness between the trees. Maybe a fox is watching, or a moose, maybe a snowshoe hare, nose twitching at the smell of us. Eventually we turn for home, back to the yellow light shining out from above our door, back to the pocket of warmth that’s our home.