The Cold Always Wins

I spent the better part of the day immersed in the icy expanses of my mind as I wandered through the clear, strong, deadly whiteness. I gazed deeply upon the past misfortunes of those who sought to conquer the cold. I drank deep of sorrow and loss. Mankind has long sought to make its mark upon distant places, remote places. Places where he has no place being. It is not in his physiology or psychology to withstand the extremities some reaches of the earth offer. Just as he cannot breath beneath the surface without mechanical aid, he cannot survive long without some technological tether in the harshest climes. The polar regions have little love for man. They are unsympathetic, uncaring. Much like dark gods reveling beyond space and time or dreaming in the ocean’s depths.

I came away with one absolute truth. No matter what, The Cold always wins.

Until next time, I bid you, dear reader, adieu.

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