Glimpses of My October

There's something about the holiday season that seems to melt time away faster than you think possible. October is the kick-off. Halloween prep intermingles with Santa's popping up in the holiday aisle. The cool fall air becomes a cold winter chill. The mud puddles freeze over. We even saw a few snowflakes, and lots of rain. We broke records of rainfall; the weather we're accustomed to showed it's face, and our island home graciously accepted the water it longed for. Final fishing adventures were had, pumpkins were carved, costumes picked out the night before the school parade. These were our ordinary days, and they were good.  

Continue on, by checking out Kristi's October.  

Saturday Morning, 44/52

Saturday. n the seventh day of the week; before Sunday.

Morning. n 1. The first or early part of the day, lasting from midnight to noon or from sunrise to noon. 2. The dawn. 3. The first or early part; the beginning: the morning of a new nation.

This year, alongside an incredible group of photographers, we are documenting our Saturday mornings.

Follow along here.
 

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Saturday Morning 43/52

Saturday. n the seventh day of the week; before Sunday.

Morning. n 1. The first or early part of the day, lasting from midnight to noon or from sunrise to noon. 2. The dawn. 3. The first or early part; the beginning: the morning of a new nation.

This year, alongside an incredible group of photographers, we are documenting our Saturday mornings.

Follow along here.

Other Posts You May Like:

Saturday Morning, 42/52

Saturday. n the seventh day of the week; before Sunday.

Morning. n 1. The first or early part of the day, lasting from midnight to noon or from sunrise to noon. 2. The dawn. 3. The first or early part; the beginning: the morning of a new nation.

This year, alongside an incredible group of photographers, we are documenting our Saturday mornings.
Follow along here.

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It's Friday

The rain we desperately longed for, came down for days. The dry, hardened earth soaked up every last drip, still thirsty. Then we got more. The rivers flowed again, the fish swam again. It's a complicated cycle, when a place fully dependent on the regularity of receiving water, just doesn't get any. Raingear-clad, we headed to the park on bikes, breathing in the fresh salty air. We watched water shoot off the sides of hills, making impromptu waterfalls. We literally soaked it up. Then the sun peaked out for a couple days, and we soaked up that, too.

It's Friday, and we're ready for our weekend.

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Nick & Katie

Many professions in Kodiak offer many varied schedules; leaving the 8:00 – 5:00 routine unfamiliar to most families.  Fishing families wave goodbye, as their partners set out to fish the waters in raging seas, for a few days or a few months. Military families await their husbands or wives return from rescue missions; or they send them off for months at a time. The fish may, or may not, show up; the weather changes; the schedule changes. There’s no definitive, only approximates. 

Babies born on the cusp of summer salmon, rarely see their dad’s until September. Mom’s learning to juggle the new throes of motherhood, are also swept into finding a balance without their other half. It’s a lifestyle choice many here are accustomed to- it's unconventional and it's Alaskan, and most importantly, it makes for sacred family time.

At home with Nick and Katie, in between fishing seasons.

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