As the days are getting shorter, the temperature is falling and the wildlife has left us, the station has changed gears and is now settling into the next phase. Winter.
You can really see the changes around us every day. The colours of the sky and ice, the auroras and the number of clothing layers we need to wear outside. I still don’t know who I’m talking to sometimes under the balaclavas, and any warmth or sensation in my hands is lost to me at least twice a day.
Every day it changes and every day we say the same thing to each other, ‘How lucky are we to be HERE? '.
It’s so hard to describe the colours of the sunrises and sunsets, going from bright oranges and reds, to soft pastel pinks and purples. The plateau and the ice cliffs take on these hues that look almost unreal. When the snow drifts and swirls through station on the wind, you start to feel a little like you’re on another planet… and you have to pinch yourself sometimes when you’re lying in bed and there is a bright aurora dancing in the sky right above you. Surreal.
The landscape of ice has changed so much too. From open ocean to solid ice in just a few weeks. It morphs from liquid to solid in various ways I didn’t even know existed. Grease, pancake, frazil, needle ice just to name a few. After a blizzard it’s quite amazing where snow and ice ends up, and what patterns it can make. There are a few expeditioners here with creative sides - including myself - that have already been busy snapping away with our cameras capturing some of nature's artworks. Sometimes it doesn’t really compare to what we see with our own eyes though.
It’s my second trip south - first to the continent - and I can’t compare this to any other station… but every time I look out the window, I do feel so incredibly lucky to be here.
by Alana-Jayne Moore
Senior Met Observer