The Changing Of The Season

In the long shadows of afternoon that never ends, the sun reveals more and more of the rock every day.  The snow vanishes little by little... not by melting, but because the snow and ice touched by the continuous sun in freezing air dissipate into vapor.  There is very little mud yet, for the heat of the day has only touched a degree above freezing a few times in the last week, and that but for less than an hour.  The tale of the winter shows in cross section, as strata sublimate layer by layer by layer.

The sun never rises above 45 degrees... nor sets below 30 degrees.

I miss the snow.  I miss the night.

It is still gorgeous across the ice, and from the top of Ob Hill Erebus still rises spotless white.  The glaciers west shine like glass in the evening when the sun circles around to the north.  There have been three days in a row of swarms of lenticular clouds, some like waves, some like swarms of flying saucers, some like stacks of soft disks atop the mountains.  They are beautiful from a distance, and very dangerous for aircraft, for they are formed from strong turbulence over the mountain tops and can tear planes apart.

It warmed up enough a couple days ago to snow for a couple of hours.  Large flakes, like giants compared to any snow I've seen before.  And then it was gone again.  Just a visit, a whisper, a negative shadow.  It is the season for the skua to come south, and I saw their scout fly over station that snowy evening.  The seals are birthing pups out on the sea ice, and the penguins will be arriving soon.

There are over 850 on station now.  The busy season has begun.