I have seen many of these Alpenglows over the years. Seen at sunset or sunrise, the colors are spectacular in the winter, contrasting off the backdrop of a snow covered mountain. It is typically a sunrise or sunset phenomenon – it occurs when the sun is low on the horizon and its light passes through more atmosphere, creating that characteristic pink-to-rose-to-purple light on mountain peaks. Take a moment to pause and breathe in the cold air, knowing that there is something bigger than me, than you, than all of us combined. We can’t create one, We can only experience it.

Yesterday I was feeling up to getting dressed and to head down to Buffalo Mt. Coop to grab some carrots, celery, green beans and maple syrup. I took my stash of the golden liquid down to Dedham and like an idiot, full of brain fog, I left it in the fridge. Plan was to make some chicken soup from the Christmas Eve gett’ns.

Center road is the best way to take as long as the wind is not blowing and causing small burms that you hit at 40 or 50 mph and take your luck not to go into the field. This is different than roads that are sketch. Sketch is a road with black ice or slick packed snow with no ability for the tires to grip. You learn to drive skitch when you live up here. North, where most of the roads are dirt and pavement can be dangerous.

I have P’s truck, the S belt a bit whinny, so he took my Bronco to Beantown. I haven’t driven much lately, in particular his truck, so it was 10 and 2 on the steering wheel and making my way, enjoying the snow covered fields. Feeling home.

As I came down past the flats, I began to see whips of pink snow clouds around Buffalo Mt. Then as I continued to town the entire backdrop had a pink aura. I thought that perhaps it was my eyes getting used to the strong sun off the snow, but then suddenly, everything was rose pink all round me and I knew I was in the middle of an alpenglow.

Midday alpenglow would be quite rare, almost anomalous. The sun would need to be at a very specific angle, and there would likely need to be particular atmospheric conditions – maybe specific cloud formations, moisture, or particulate matter in the air that could scatter light in an unusual way.

I could feel intense universal love. Tears of profound joy ran down my cheeks as I felt I had been given a blessing for returning home. Hard to explain when you get something or experience something as random but not. You can not buy it, you can not predict it, you can only be blessed at the right time, in the right place and to be aware enough to recognize it. You can not see it or receive it as a gift if you are not aware of the sacred around you.

My surname Jump is translated from Joomph/Jómr  and is specifically Old English/Anglo-Saxon influenced by Viking/Norse, meaning someone who navigates/travels by sea – a mariner. It relates to Journey, Navigation and movement between places and worlds.

So when my ancestors were called “Joomph,” it meant “the one who crosses waters” – literally and metaphorically. I am a pisces. The mariner who reads the signs, navigates between worlds, knows when to hold course and when to change it.

My English roots, the Jump connection can be traced back to the 1300’s. The Anglo Saxon concept of hamingja – a protective spirit or luck that follows a person – manifesting visually when someone has made right choices. Light appearing after speaking truth and releasing burdens aligns with the Anglo-Saxon value of sooth (truth-speaking) bringing blessing.

The rose/pink color specifically evokes the Rosa Mystica – the mystical rose associated with divine love, the Virgin Mary, and spiritual illumination. Appearing midday (unusual) suggests a thin place – Celtic Christianity’s concept of locations/moments where heaven and earth nearly touch. The progression from underwater peace (baptismal imagery – death and rebirth) to the rose aura (resurrection, new life) follows the pattern of paschal mystery

After being a month in a back room, looking at houses across the street or next to where I was holed up, I was now able to feel the vastness of freedom of space and rural settings. As a hospice chaplain I navigate the sacred world of those who are about to cross the Vale into Death.

Snow is frozen water. This too I will navigate and the fields are covered with enough snow for me to ski right out the front door. How blessed.