Nights like tonight

I am posting this from my iphone, which is amazing to me. It wasn't too long ago that cell service at the cabin was scarce and hard to come by. But now, with the iphone, I am able to blog! Technology never ceases to surprise me!

Dylan, Keiser, and I had a great day relaxing at the cabin and visiting with family. D is worn out from playing with cousins all afternoon and is finally falling asleep in his pack 'n play. However, his sleep did take some coaxing on my part. The midnight sun was keeping him up and I had to pull out my mom tricks; tin foil on the windows, white noise from his favorite crib projector, and a rough rendition of the Carter Family's, "Mountain Lady". It worked... So far. And he is sleeping (or at least quietly laying) in his pack 'n play while I have some much needed Mommy time on the cabin deck.

Nights like tonight, when the Alaska sun shines bright for hours on end, always remind me of a night I spent with my best friend, Amber, when we were girls. We had begged her parents to sleep outside, promised we would stay in the front yard and behave ourselves. After much pleading, they relented and warned us to stay within the fence and to wear a lot of bug spray. When bedtime came, we didn't miss a beat. We put our warm pajamas on, doused ourselves in mosquito repellent, and marched ourselves and our sleeping bags to the front yard. We were on a mission. We wanted to see if we could see when, and if, the midnight sun would ever set, and if it did, for how long.

To make a long story short, we were up for hours, talking about boys and music and the latest 12 year old gossip. The sun didn't set until around 2am and it barely left the sky in a dusky haze before returning again 20 minutes later. After finally seeing it rise again and hearing the birds already beginning their morning song, we drifted off into a quiet Copper River Valley sleep. We woke early to the same unrelenting sun and jovial birds and went inside for a warm breakfast.

It's funny the memories that stick with us over time. For some reason, I have never forgotten that sleepover. Amber is still my best friend, I still have a romantic attachment to Alaska's long summer nights, and, even now, at my cabin 18 years later, I can't help but think of that time.

For now, and for the next several years, Dylan will be held to a strict bedtime. But when he is 12 and begs us to camp outside with his friends, I hope I have the same good sense that our parents had to say yes. The world is discovered and timeless memories are made of such things.

On cabin deck at dusk