Not Doing Justice

I have been waiting to write about my experiences here.  Or maybe it's hesitating...   To start off I feel a description is in order and immediately I run into a problem.  Even now after nearly a month to soak it all in I am not going to be able to do it justice.  I simply don't know the words and wonder if they even exist.  My first impressions?  Cold, vast, humbling, and beautifully exquisite.  Those are the few words that might be warranted and in some way I feel bad about trying to use them.  Antarctica is a place that doesn't want to be defined.  It doesn't want to be told, it wants to tell you.  I feel that is why I have a hard time describing anything outside of factual life here.  The continent itself in all it's majesty is a feeling.  It feels alive.  There is something here that pulses with energy and I feel drawn in by it all.  I sympathize with those like Scott, Amundsen, Byrd, Shackleton, and others who risked all costs in the name of exploration and occasionally laid down their lives here.  Those epics were not in vain.  They were played out answering the call.  Antarctica beckons.