Just had a social dinner with some of my Antarctic crew-mates (those of us who have been down here more than 4-5 times), and retired downstairs to check up on some stuff. Took some time out, quickly read through the last couple of December Durban Clipper diary entries, found my mind suddenly in a very different space, and thought to drop a quick note.
Although it is now 22:30 here in Punta Arenas, there is still a lovely baby-pink hue to the night sky. Venus has just started strutting her stuff, the last pink of the day has left the clouds to continue their chilly eastward dance, and the twinkling of city lights down the hill remind one that there are people with normal lives.
Looking out over the city, I'm reminded of a feeling I still often get when driving along dark streets past houses gaily lit from within. Each passing house is different, each glowing with a warmth from within, and each lasts but a fleeting instant before it fades into the past. (Each also seems very distant, seemingly containing a life I cannot comprehend or attain.) Watching the houses pass by, I'm reminded that there are moments in life that - however fleeting they may be - are islands of warmth, bonhomie, life, friendship, and fun. We can choose to enter these moments, or just watch them pass by from the outside, forever wishing, striving, and (ultimately) regretting not being part of that which we witness.
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