Posted in From a previous life..., Writing Nothing until Something Appears

Excuse #354: It’s Raining in a Rainforest

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Yes Ketchikan, Alaska is in a rainforest,  not the tropical kind that produces sweet fruit and vitamin c, but rather the colder kind that grows evergreen and mild tot moderate depression.  One hundred and eight inches of rain a year feed these cedars until they are monsters.  Once upon a time, men killed themselves sawing these beasts into rolling treasures.  The greens produced by this rain is a deeper hue than any oil paint could replicate.

Where was I going with this?  The rain… Yes I believe we have received much of our one hundred and eight inches  this past week.  We have all been living under the blanket of clouds.  I didn’t really notice the darkness until  day five.  So I cracked open my “sun in a box”.  This SAD light cannot compete with the sun but it does hold me over until the real thing burns a hole in our atmospheric ceiling, letting blue sky lift our spirits.

Besides my light, I also use these rainy days as a ready-made excuse for any procrastinating I need to do.  Of course during postcard picture-perfect days, I have to blow it all off and do something outside.  I’m not advocating laziness, I’m only describing a part of life in Ketchikan, Alaska.  When to do the working elves come out and do that to do list?  I have no ideas because I have not seen those buggers around my house in ages.  If you see them, please tell them to stop by and do something!

Author:

A.E. LaSage In her series of shorts, Behind the Bridge to Nowhere, A. E. LaSage introduced a collection of characters who live their fiction in Ketchikan, Alaska. They continue to live beyond those pages and (with others) appear in new adventures. A bit of a character herself, she enjoys finding the absurd and personal in the ordinary.

3 thoughts on “Excuse #354: It’s Raining in a Rainforest

  1. Amy: I believe the time scale you are describing is called “island time.” It’s funny to watch visitors or newcomers meet up with Ketchikan’s standard of time. It’s part of what sets the place apart, of course. Nothing is “now” in Ketchikan. It’s “when the barge arrives” or “after the fish stop biting” or “next rainy day” or “next sunny day” or “out until high tide” . . .

    Like

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