Snow does more than brighten the landscape and encourage us to prepare for spring gardening. Snow can yield some great benefits to your soil. How’s that?
Snow does more than brighten the landscape and encourage us to prepare for spring gardening. Snow can yield some great benefits to your soil. How’s that?
The glow from a small porch light defined my coordinates on the globe: A trampled patch of snow, the size of a manhole cover, located between a sliding glass door and an outhouse ‘privacy’ tent.
It was 8 PM and I’d been trying all day to photograph snowflakes. But try as I might, the wind was howling and I could only “harvest” bits and pieces blown off the roof.
So my husband and I are on a road trip from Kodiak Island to the big city of Anchorage, Alaska. Our journey involves a 10-hour ferry ride followed by a 5-hour drive through winter wonderlands you read about in story books.
Every morning at 6 AM, our public radio station wakes us up with Garrison Keillor’s Writer’s Almanac. If you haven’t heard the podcast narrated by Keillor, it’s a wonderful, 2 to 3-minute, “this day in history” snapshot, followed by
Excited at the prospect of photographing snowflakes (one of my favorite winter activities), Marty and I booked flights to Anchorage, Alaska. Though it’s only a 60-minute flight north
Isn’t it cool how answers show up in the most unusual ways…when we have burning questions, problems that need solving, or lessons to learn? Allow me to share a story with you…
When it snows on Kodiak Island, something magic happens at high water. The black shale rocks are dusted with white, transforming them into tiny marshmallows. Then as the tide recedes, the snow is raked into the ocean, leaving a
Keys in hand, grocery list in my pocket, I head to the door for a round of errands. While slipping on my gloves, I glance out the office window just long enough to watch several snowflakes make their way earthward.…
I’m Marion Owen. I work, relax, and love life in Kodiak, Alaska. I’ve worked on research ships, created photographs that hang in The Smithsonian, given up cheese and meat, and enjoy watching bumblebees and snowflakes. And somewhere along the line, I co-authored the New York Times bestseller, Chicken Soup for the Gardener’s Soul. I’m learning how to not do too much. To be authentic, embrace joy, and not burn the oatmeal.
Thank you for being here,
