the earth ink

It is August. Light is fleeting, but beautiful. Though light begins to touch the sky again on Antarctica's coastline, the sun has not risen yet - nor has it popped above the horizon in nearly four months. August is the coldest month in Antarctica. Nose hairs freeze and skin cracks due to the lack of humidity - though exposed skin is hard to find. Privileged to accompany professional photographer and director of Antarctica: A Year on Ice , Anthony Powell out on the sea ice, this photo was captured as light reflected off white pressure ridges in the Ross Sea near Scott Base. Fellow winterover, Joe, stood contemplating his own photo through a hole melted in a slab of ice that pushed up through the sea ice's tempermental frozen coastal crust. In this area, weddell seals will pop up during the summer and summertime contractors and scientists will have to sign up for tours to negotiate the ice formations. In late January, this area to the shoreline will become slushy and unpred

Flying. Most everyone seems to appreciate that feeling of loftiness - no strings attached, no obligations to attend to: freedom. Part of the reason I volunteered in the Philippines earlier this year was to lay things aside: a slow-growing business, deadlines, the internet, even friends and family. Of course, we always take some of this with us wherever we go, but now and then, a significant break is warranted. On this particular break, I wanted to fly - to get away, to hop on airplanes around the world, to redistribute my efforts into something physical and tangible. The funny thing is, volunteering is hard work - laborious and exhausting, but so incredibly freeing. I recommend it. Volunteering in a post-disaster area means difficult living conditions, sweat, a little blood, and probably a few tears, too. With All Hands Volunteers on the Island of Leyte in the Philippines, difficult living meant that 50-60 people from around the world shared two toilets; lived in tents, or in