Midnight Sun
The most I had ever thought about the concept of the midnight sun involved an episode of "Northern Exposure" I saw years before I moved here. It's the episode where Dr. Fleischmann gets really wired during the long summer days, staying up for days in a row coaching the town's basketball team for an upcoming competition. On the big day, Joel has crashed from days without sleep. The episode is "Midnight Sun," Season 4, episode 2.
I have never been so influenced by the long days of summer that I was wired enough to stay up for several days. But with summer solstice officially happening tonight (12:24 a.m. Alaska time), I contemplate what the midnight sun has meant over the years. Let's be accurate: the sun does set here before midnight (11:41 p.m. tonight). But it doesn't get dark; we don't even reach blue-hour twilight. The sun just hovers below the horizon, leaving its golden hue in the northern sky all night until it rises at 4:20 a.m.
The midnight sun means photographic magic to me. With the low angle of the sun as it takes its sweet time to reach the horizon, the angle and quality of the light is something to behold. It creates a beautiful landscape to photograph, puts a sparkle in a moose's eye. The midnight sun means long hours of being able to explore the beauty of the outdoors without any meaningful limits. (Well, other than when the sun goes down, the mosquitoes really go crazy.) It gives you a chance to wander and explore, much like as a young kid with no rules or obligations.
Of all the things that my tour guests remark upon throughout the year, it is the amazement of being up at 11:30 p.m. and still having the sun up in the sky. It's like the craziest thing they have ever seen, beyond comprehension. I would not say that it is something I take for granted; rather, I take advantage of it as a photographer. But it is honest to say that I have adapted to it and it doesn't seem odd to me.
After tonight, we start the downhill slide toward our short days and long winter nights. The slide is much like starting from a standing position at the top of the hill and letting gravity slowly take over and gain speed as you roll downhill on a bike. Soon, we will be amazed at how early the sun is setting. In the meantime, I will savor the late evening light and long days to explore what nature is producing for us in such a short growing period.
The sun sets behind the Alaska Range and to the northwest of downtown Anchorage during the longest days of the year.
A small slough carves its way through the mudflats of Cook Inlet in Anchorage at around 1:00 a.m. on a long summer day.
A float plane dock extends out into the waters of Lake Spenard at the Lake Hood Seaplane Base in Anchorage at around 12:30 a.m. on a summer night.
Flowers adorn the top of Flattop Mountain in Anchorage as the sky continues to remain bright well after sunset on a summer night.
Pink and blue hues dominate the night sky after sunset with Mt. Redoubt of the Aleutian Range on the western horizon.
The sky seemingly lights on fire behind a prominent peak in the Alaska Range at sunset in mid-June.
The setting sun lights up a patch of Mountain Avens on an alpine slope in Chugach State Park.