When the glacier’s face calves, we get a new look at the inside. To give you an idea of scale here, the cliff face is several hundred feet tall. Twenty-foot ice javelins? Yes please! (I was almost a quarter mile away when I took this photograph, and you’d be an idiot to get much closer.) See all those horizontal stripes? Each layer took about 150 years to form.
Wouldn’t that be fun? To have a house in the middle of a giant ice-lagoon?
This big boy rolled in about a week ago, and seems to have beached himself. Last year’s Big Beached Berg got a name (Mark Wahl-berg), and since this one is at least as large, I think he deserves a name, too. Suggestions?
We’re still wearing long underwear and puffy parkas and hats every day. We’re gearing up for Halloween and Thanksgiving and Christmas. We’re looking out our windows at a very convincing field of ice and snow. And yet here we are calling it “springtime.”
There are a few clues that life here is transitioning into summer, though. First: the penguins are nesting. Second: it stays light out until almost midnight. The farther you are from the Equator, the more darkness you get during your hemisphere’s winter, and the more daylight you get during your hemisphere’s summer. Pretty soon here, we’ll have light at all hours. I love the stretched-out sunrises and sunsets. Nothin’ like a pink-tinged glacier late in the evening…
…and at 11pm…
The novelty wears off after a few weeks, when your body’s internal clock gets thoroughly wonked-out. But don’t worry, I nabbed one of those little eye mask things they give you on planes, so I’m set.