Locomotoring

In Antartica, the penguin gets more agency than the tourist. That seems totally fair, we are the visitors to their home.

They build their nests further up from the ocean, on exposed rocks where the snow has melted away, in clusters, so they get some shared warmth. They travel to and fro to the ocean to secure food for themselves and their little ones. It turns out, that like bears, they take the same path in snow repeatedly which ends up creating highways. And then when tourists go to visit them, we create these temporary trails that invariably intersect their highways. Now, humans are required to maintain a healthy distance from these birds, avian flu is here too. These intersections create memorable moments. During the trip, I saw a handful of curious penguins who would watch us or come to us or sneak up behind us. But most of them didn’t really care for us. They would keep on doing whatever they were doing, micro-napping in between, tens of thousands of times. Grooming and napping. Thinking and napping. Shitting and napping. Sliding and napping. Waddling and napping.