Blogger has been broken all day and finally let me sign in so I can post. That was so annoying, I couldn't comment, I couldn't post. I only had one customer and two visitors to occupy me. It's very quiet here in the dive shop. Thank god for knitting and Netflix.
June 6--Livingston Island, Antarctica. The light that filtered through the layer of snow and ice looked blue. It reminded Celia of the light in one of those big old churches in Europe with acres of stained glass windows and ceilings so high yo have to crane your neck to see them. She didn't look up much, diving under the ice was hard enough with the water temp being just at freezing. Looking up at the six feet of slab ice overhead made her want to claw her way through it. She loved diving and she loved the shapes that the currents and the varied water temperatures carved in the underside of the ice. It reminded her of the wind-eroded rocks in the desert southwest but one one would ever mistake this frozen place for a desert even though it was one. Very little snow fell in Antarctica. The flakes that blew so gleefully on the never ending wind for the most part weren't falling, they were just being blown from place to place. Thinking about that wind, Celia was glad to be underwater counting starfish rather than battling frostbite on the surface.
So, was it worth waiting all day for? Probably not, but I appreciate your patience.