The Rest of the Story

(For some unknown, unknowable reason, I stopped writing in June. Just stopped. Didn’t think about it. Didn’t worry about it. Whatever makes me write, stopped.

Then a few days ago, that part of my brain started working again. Just did.

So I looked back at what I had been writing about and realized—I didn’t finish the story of Antarctica. So here is–The Rest of the Story.)

The entire trip to Antarctica had given me an emotional high. I was were, for most of my adult life, I had wanted to be. I was on an ocean that few had the privilege to see. I was witnessing a landscape that was terrifyingly beautiful. I was acutely aware of the dangers that surrounded me as I floated on a small rubber boat among penguins and icebergs, whales and mountains.

The cold wind on my face, the sun…