O Skua! Winged chief of Antarctic skies,
With eyes like daggers, sharp and wise.
To the rookie soul you strike with dread,
A phantom feared where few tread.
They warned us first of your cruel plight,
Of swoops and squawks that chill the night.
An eye-plucking demon, cloaked in lore.
But you, great Skua, are something more.
You ride the winds with storm-born grace,
A feathered sentinel of this icy place.
Among Adélie lands you stalk and feast,
Certainly no gentle beast.
For who else dares to live so bold,
To dance in gales, defy the cold?
You fight upon the ice-slicked stage,
A brawl of titans, in territorial rage.
Three days you warred, the ice ran red,
One rose, one left to your deathbed.
On Channel Six the news was broke
A hushed report: “A bird lies still”.
I murmured dead flat, no sign of trill,
“Been there a Month,” it sent me chills.
From laughter’s spark obsession grew,
Who knew I’d chase a bird like you.
Each trek I scan the Vestfold sky,
For your broad wings soaring high.
You circle close, bold and unafraid,
A curious hope through this rocky landscape.
You vanish North on ocean's call,
As I ready for what winter has install.
I wait for season's turn,
for sun to rise, your reason to return.
With baited breath at Channel Six calls,
I hope it's you to swoop and squall.
Liam Murry - Communications Technical Officer
https://www.antarctica.gov.au/about-antarctica/animals/flying-birds/south-polar-skua/
https://www.antarctica.gov.au/news/2020/migration-mysteries-of-antarctic-frequent-flyers/
