A thorough walking pre-ash observation on Sunday, March 23

Palmer Paths—I love walking in downtown Palmer. My dogs often choose the route and path of their choice. But they know I will need to stop and write down some notes, pick up a leaf, take a picture or study a spot frequently.

Walking is the perfect speed for observation. On Sunday, the spring weather had kissed us firmly and the mountains were glorious in their pure white capes. Traffic is always different and calmer on Sunday because the pressure is lacking. I walk along taking stock of the sidewalk world and I wonder if this is all pre-ash. Perhaps all the volcano discussion is just longwinded speculation. It’s been a while but I have lived through ash-falls before and they didn’t seem that horrible or even remarkable. Certainly they weren’t terribly memorable or else I have forgotten how noteworthy they were. I remember the sky was a different color and the air tasted salty. In some ways it was similar to a significant big wind storm off the glacier…..where your lips stuck together and it was hard to see crossing the Matanuska River north of town. The difference between silt and ash however is distinct because ash has glass in it and therefore more dangerous.

But today is Pre-ash. We have lots of gravel bits and sand on roadsides and most sidewalks and driveways. Dead leaves accumulate in gutters and corners of the buildings. Pieces of wind worn trash are here and there partially hidden by nature’s debris . Clean up is a few weeks away.

Buds—Today on Sunday, there are people at various dusty picnic tables and under the pavilions and porches near the Museum. This side of the street is cleaner. On the south side of buildings small patches of green moss, sprigs of grass or fully fledged daffodils are in training. There are old patches of exhausted snow and ice chunks here and there. Rock gardens are flooded with melt and trees are flooded with unopened buds. At the garden, in the middle of town, you can see tiny, little ,red rhubarb eyes squinting through the soil. The entire Landscape garden promises joy even though the flowers aren’t up yet. Beautiful Japanese willows, bending like graceful calligraphy, are on the north side along with the magpie trees and loud nursery.

Across the Street—My dogs greet the Balto statue before crossing Evergreen from the Museum to the Library green and quad. This is our next favorite route. The Colonist statuary is solid and elegant and informative. The quad looks nice, but some parts looks muddy. The walking paths are in good shape. There are many folks walking around, families with strollers, a few dog walkers, a couple tweens, and some seniors are on a bench.

Sad Library—I turn my head and focus on our library. It is still standing but I don’t really like looking at it these days. It is damaged and feels forgotten. It was such a source of joy for so many years, a destination and a place of pride. Now it kinda hurts. It has been over two years since the roof collapsed. It feels like an abandoned tenement building now. There are still the signs of life…..the artistically designed mushrooms and big blueberries painted on the glass doors. There is a faded flyer that says clearly, “Closed for President’s Day Feb 20,21, 2023” Everything about our wonderful library is sad right now. It was the vortex of our community…scouts, reading groups, history room, church groups, sewing groups, rock clubs, craft clubs, senior citizens, card players, and even musicians gathered at our library in the middle of town. I ache seeing it sit there, so forgotten, so lonely and dejected.

Why is the joy of rebuilding of our community library being weaponized as a political wedge? How can such a place of giving and learning be forsaken and deserted? I know, I know there is a temporary library. I go to it frequently and they do the best they can. But we have lost a central jewel of Palmer, somewhere in the library’s collapse. The various efforts to rebuild it or the various attempts to forestall it—are questionable. I have huge hopes for our library; going to the public library frequently—for most of my life— has been a gift.

Barbara Hunt is both Palmer writer and artist. She works hard to keep the robust pulse of Palmer, Alaska. She shares the good stuff in the weekly Palmer Alaska Buzz Column in the Mat Su Valley Frontiersman and daily on the Palmer Alaska Buzz Facebook Group. Contact at bhunt@mtaonline.net or text 907.315.3222.