Right, so I’m not much of a fancy writer, but here’s a bit about my time at Davis Station. Never thought I’d end up working back down south so soon, but there ya go.
The weather has been fantastic but I’m still waiting for a big storm. When the sun comes up - or goes down, it’s just deadset beautiful. The sky lights up like a bonfire of colour, all pinks and oranges. You just stand there, mouth half open, forgetting how cold your nose is!
Now the wind - that thing has an attitude. We haven’t seen a blizzard yet, but it’s left it's mark on the station over the years. It doesn’t just blow through, nah - it changes stuff. I love looking at old bits of timber and beams turned into magnificent pieces of art. And the paint on the buildings? Sandblasted off, like the place was shedding its skin. Even the old stickers and signs around the station aren’t safe, all ghostly, like the wind was trying to rub out the past.
Still, there’s something about that place. Harsh, yeah. Lonely, sure. But it gets under your skin. There’s a kind of raw beauty to it. Nothing fake. Just ice, sky and wind doing whatever the hell they want.
Anyway, that was my time so far at Davis. Freezing, windy and bloody unforgettable.
Mal McMillan - Carpenter
