FAIRBANKS -- The endless talk about the dark days in Alaska sometimes keeps us from seeing the light.
Or at least appreciating the ethereal qualities of this season of long shadows, when the sun hits everything from a low angle, casting a subdued peach-like glow on the hills and valleys that landscape artists will forever be trying to preserve with paint.
It's a sunrise or sunset -- take your pick -- that just happens to go on for four or five hours. It's one of the bright spots about winter in this part of Alaska, one that many people miss because they have indoor commitments that keep them working or otherwise occupied, basking in the glow of computer screens.
We know it's January because of the balance between day and night, a reliable celestial pattern. It's reassuring because everything else about this winter is out of sync -- with temperatures and snow conditions that we normally don't see until late March or early April, disrupting the notion that Fairbanks is dependably cold.
Without a 40-below cold snap, this is not a season that can be called winter, if you ask Fairbanksans who fall into the die-hard category and deserve that adjective more than a mere battery or Bruce Willis. As is true elsewhere in Alaska, the not-so-peaceful Pacific winds have driven away the chill, if not the snow. We've not seen anything chillier than 29 below, and that only for a moment, the equivalent of shirtsleeve weather. For the most part, we've avoided the four-letter word that terrorizes the populace -- rain.
If this keeps up, we could have a full-blown identity crisis by the spring. But don't worry -- the bottom can always drop out in late January and February.
That brings us back to the more predictable matter of light in short supply. To prevent the dark from becoming all-encompassing this time of year, which it can be, it's important to escape the electronic glow and get outside sometime between dawn and dusk, especially when the sun is shining. When the cloud cover is complete, a January day outside Fairbanks is grayer than my hair. But when the sun breaks through, the colors emerge.
On Tuesday, just after 10 a.m, a bank of clouds above the southeast horizon exploded in shades of orange and red with the sun still below the horizon. The brilliant light show faded as sunrise approached at 10:48 a.m., only to reappear about four hours later in the southwest after dusk.
I think of it as compensation for the limited daylight, which is weak on Vitamin D, but strong on aesthetics.
Fairbanks has gained nearly a half-hour since the low point two weeks ago, closing in on four and a half hours. By about 1 p.m., the center of the sun reaches 3 degrees above the horizon, a high point for the day.
From March to September, we take daylight for granted. Not so during January, when the beauty of the day is marked by light conditions equally as impressive as those created by those other northern lights.
We have had many spectacular displays of the aurora this season and, as is always the case, they appear more striking in photographs than in person. I take it on faith that these are real depictions and that our eyes can't compress 15 or 30 seconds of light in the same way as a camera.
When it comes to the daylight, however, human eyesight surpasses the camera's reach. I have yet to see a photograph or a video that captures the full beauty of the winter glow of sunshine in Interior Alaska.
The winter brings long days, often derided as dark and depressing, but don't forget about the light.
Columnist Dermot Cole, a resident of Fairbanks, has been a reporter and columnist in Alaska for 40 years. The views expressed here are his and are not necessarily endorsed by Alaska Dispatch News, which welcomes a broad range of viewpoints. To submit a piece for consideration, email commentary(at)alaskadispatch.com.