Antarctica Obscura

I went to Antarctica to capture it's essence - if the continent would only allow me.

Shrouded in Clouds, interrupted by puddles of light, only glimpses of the continent could be seen. Even when the clouds parted, they still watched closely over the continent playing the role of the protector. The clouds were forever vigilant. Always present. Only the smallest portions of the ice were revealed. The largest of crevasses reveal the layering of centuries of snowfall. From glacier cracking, comes the birthing of icebergs. Immense in Size and Stature. To be sculpted and shaped into fortresses of ice. Free to roam the ocean currents and the winds of the time. Their large faces acting as sails to propel them, ever on the move. The weather is clearly in command of the scape. Mountain peaks penetrate through the layers of ice, only to be sculpted by the wind and weather. To make their own weather and clouds by their majesty. The precipice shed the ice and act as sentinels. Wind and cloud shape the form of the ice. Pushing the ice into unimaginable cornices. The unimaginable is reality in Antarctica. The rock is in a constant struggle with the ice. The mystical quality of the clouds only allow a tiny glimpse. Snow creates clouds and clouds create snow. Time seems to have no scale. Puddles of light create energy. The energy whips up the clouds and the continent is once again hidden. Boiling, tumbling winds scourer the ice. To reveal the layers of time. Only to be shrouded again. To be hidden, protected, watched over.