Grytviken

It's cold here,man.Man,it's cold herenot in the farenheit / celsius sense,but in the frozen beard, frozen hair way.It's northern hemisphere cold,not American cold, nor Siberian,nor European cold.In the southern hemisphereAntarctica gotthe raw deal.The cold belongs to the continents,not the nationsbecause the nations(without their knowing)really belong to the Earth.So to whom do we belong?to the nations?Please, don't take me for a fool like that.In patriotism there is but coldnationalism.In my in laws housemy son and daughter play children's games,in a house there is a sense of protection,and thus children's games are wholly appropriate.I forgot how to pray,and fell down fearfulas I reached for wordsbefore the same fallback prayer took over. Man, it's cold;bundle up.Outside my face freezesin record time.In my lifeI sometimes feel likethe Inuit,going without sunlight for months at a timeor at best,a dismal type of twilightfor an hour or two a day.Actually,I would love to live in a place like thatfor a year or two -though my wife would never have it. Perhaps someday you will find mewhere I long to explore;on Gough, or Inaccessible Islandsjust a few hundred miles offTristan De Cunha(the smallest human inhabited island)in the Antarctic Sea. Apparently, there are snow hurricanesthat far south.I can only imagine. I want to go as far as I can,see Cape Hornin the south of Chile,but man, it's so coldI believe, in Grytvikenwhere they buried Shackleton.How they got the grave dug in that coldI don't know.Nor do I know,how anything survived there.