If it were possible, I would hoard daylight. I’d put it in jars, cans, bins, anything in which I might keep it under wraps until I needed it. I would release the light in small increments – actually I would ration it the way women rationed butter during the Second World War.

I’d capture it in the summer, during the summer solstice. And I’d store it in places where it would be hard to find. Come October, I’d be like a glue sniffer, taking off and spending time in my special hiding place, the one no one knows about.

Matanuska Glacier

I’d open the jar, lid, bin, whatever and I would inhale deeply and as well allow my body to be bathed in light. The problem would, of course, be that, like showers, I would have to deal with the fact that all good things come to an end.

Yes, I would say, all good things come to an end, including light baths. I suspect that family members and friends would be suspect since my skin would have a healthy, near ethereal glow, and I would be smiling all the time.

I would not appear as I am now, a hunched over old crone with a dowager’s hump and pasty, mealy looking skin. Nor would I be heavy on my feet. Rather, I’d bound around, seemingly inexhaustible.

I’ve never been one for get rich quick schemes; no, not me. Some people have a knack for such things – they are called operators. If I’d had been born with such a knack, I would have acted upon it at an early age.

No, though I’ve always lacked the ability and the foresight needed to make a lot of money (and selling my stash would have netted me a large income), I do have a very vivid imagination. I think I’d rather have the latter than the former – having a good imagination goes hand in hand with self-satisfaction. You don’t get that by having a mind that’s money driven.

I suspect that I’m just rationalizing my poor decision making capabilities. Here I now am, well past my prime, in the middle of winter, in Bumfuck Alaska. The only good thing about living in the Matanuska Valley is the fact that we live on a nice piece of property. It’s still the place that time forgot since it has remained extremely quiet, and there are not a whole lot of people moving into the hood.

If, say, power comes in, they’ll also pave the road. And if they pave the road fast cars will become the norm. It will be noisy, and there will be a lot of light visible at night.

Did I say that there will be a lot of light available at night? You betcha – and it won’t be the kind that is emitted by light bulbs and motion detectors, that is dead light. Rather, it will be live light, like the sort that I am going to hoard.

I say am going to hoard it because I haven’t done this yet. This is just an idea, but nevertheless, a good one.

Next: 327. December 6, 2025: Wind