I smiled as the sun warmed my face. Back against the winds that blew from the distant southern continent. I was once more seeking adventure, escape, a feeding ritual for a restless soul. The sky was a blend of grays that melded into the sea. The sunlight was a silver dancer on the ocean, casting an unworldly reflection.

The ship approached the first land in days, a rocky, desolate wind-torn place full of life and death. Penguin rockeries covered the cliffs. Sentinels by the thousands stood guard watching the passerby. Just offshore a leopard seal's head rose above a wake and displayed a newly caught penguin-death, simple and fast.

I arrived at the shore. Large rounded rocks leading up past lazy seals that would roll over and gaze and bark out a warning of territory. No one had stepped here and each step taken left a mark. Avoiding the fragile moss I stayed on the rocks. They ended at the top of a stark crumbling knoll that opened to an expanse of snow and ocean. I stood alone with the silence, breathing slowly as the night took away the light. Then I turned and ran quickly down the gully towards the illuminated ship that was becoming home.

Desolation Island