So, they told me it was my turn to write a little something for the station news.
Hmmm…
How I feel about being at Mawson Station?
What is the best/worst part of being here?
Is the food good?
Everybody answers those questions. How about a poem instead!
Our Mawson
Vast. Incomprehensible until immersed.
A paradise prison. Beauty so adverse.
We stand and stare. Mesmerising.
How lucky we are. Still realising.
Elements behaving so fierce. Intense.
Occasionally, crystal pure silence.
Sunsets explode. The horizon cries.
Dancing lights play in the evening skies.
Emperor Penguin. How do they survive?
Remarkably so. To our surprise!
Our kindred spirit in weather extreme.
Huddled together. A survival team.
Dwelling in such a ridiculous place,
can only form a smile on your face.
“It’s Home. It’s Mawson”. It is indeed.
A well-deserved and fitting creed.
Richard “Dicky” Heaton
Mawson Chippy
