Have I told you that I love the stars? Considered going into astronomy, wanted to be an astronaut? When I was 12, checked to see how old I'd be when Haley's Comet returned? Really, really, really love the stars. And that I seldom get to see them, here in Juneau. First, from late spring through summer to early fall, the sun doesn't set far enough to get dark, so no stars for over half the year. The rest of the year, we have clouds that keep the stars hidden more than we have clear skies. And enough moisture in the air to make our starry nights less than the wonder that they are in the high desert. None-the-less, just about a block uphill from my place, the road curves and you are suddenly out of civilization. No more houses. No more light pollution. You are in a canyon, so you don't have much horizon. Actually, you have a small slit of sky. But, on clear winter nights the stars crowd into that small slit and are just breath taking.

I've mentioned that we've had a lot of snow. The newspaper tells me, 44.1 inches in recent storms. So, what I've mainly seen when I was outside or looked outside was white stuff -- falling from the sky, laying on the ground, clogging the roads, coating the trees. Pretty as a picture, but causing lots of problems. And, to go with it, cloudy skies -- when we could see them at all.

And then, the clouds cleared. Bright blue sky. Cheerful feeling to the air. Spring in the step, even the step of folks like me who walk with sticks. Ah, the world goes on, hope springs and all of that good stuff. So nice to see a sky that isn't gray. Of course, since we have all become accustomed to living in the semi-gloom, we squint our eyes and tilt our heads, not quite sure what that swatch of color overhead is about. Small children cry because the familiar sky seems to have broken. The rest of us, not unlike vampires, skuttle between buildings, hoping to escape this strange condition unscathed.

It is not an unmixed blessing -- we all know that without the mediating effect of the clouds, the heat will dissipate and the world will be colder. And, sure enough it is -- it dropped from 34 degrees to 15. The worst is night, when all the heat from the day escapes out into the sky, leaving us without our safety blanket. So, is it any wonder that as I walk up the stairs to my bedroom, I look out the skylight and mutter, "Shit. Stars."