Winter
The second week of June arrives just like the first did. Accompanied with minimum sunlight, predictably cold weather and an always friendly maintenance pre-start meeting. How many has that been now? One each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. 60? 80?
Most of the wintering 79th ANARE is bearing down on 8 months on the continent. And despite the cold and dark atmosphere bringing a calmer and quieter pace, it barely seems like 4 months has passed since we stepped on the ship. And that was after 12 or so weeks of training - more for some.
When I look back through the photos on my phone, it's evident where all the time went. There's no shortage of job photos for our Maximo work orders ("don't forget the long descriptions!"). There are aurora photos (hundreds), seal photos (thousands), penguin photos (somehow, more) and the sunsets - to remind us what the fading light looks like until the centre of our solar system returns to the horizon. It's easy to relegate your memories to this format. A series of stills strewn together with fleeting in-between moments.
Elders say that the years get shorter as you grow older. The remedy suggested is to fill your moments with as many memories as possible, as an attempt to somehow over-encumber the time, slowing it. But the opposite is true. When your attention focuses on all the tasks you need to do and all the self-inflicted excitement you can take ownership of, you barely notice the time passing. The more activities, the less capacity to remember them all. The more giggles, the less the louder ones stick out.
The moments become a mental timelapse. A flickering picture show with all the highlighted sounds, views, smells, aches and laughs worthy enough to make the cut. The good news is, it's mostly the best of times that are kept and the lesser enjoyable ones forgotten. Thankfully, we undertake the edit subconsciously.
And so, as the Davis crew hurtle through space towards the winter solstice and their mid-winter celebrations, the gargantuan length of a winter expedition seems less like a marathon of tolerance attrition and more like a sprint to the finish. How many more moments can we fill our timelapse with? What will the second half of the year hold for us in Antarctica? However long or short it feels, the best moments will join the others, on what is certainly the most amazing timelapse I've ever made.
-Sean Lewis
