It’s 12 years since I was in Antarctica. I wrote this to celebrate.

Welcome, brave traveler, to the dreamscape of Antarctica—a world of endless white, shimmering ice, and secrets long buried beneath the frost. Close your eyes, take a deep breath in, and let the cold, crisp air of imagination fill your lungs. Exhale slowly, releasing the warmth of everyday worries, and feel yourself descend into the vast, glacial stillness. The ice beneath your feet is ancient, older than nations, older than history. With each step forward, you’re walking deeper into the unknown.
You’re not alone. Nope, not just you and the penguins anymore. Something—no, someone—is watching. No need to be afraid. It’s a presence both curious and kind. Like that feeling you get when you’re sure a cat’s staring at you from across the room. You’re being seen but not judged.
Look ahead. Do you see that faint glow through the foggy air? It’s not sunlight. It’s a soft, cerulean blue, pulsing like a distant heartbeat. Draw closer, step by step, each crunch of the ice beneath you like a drumbeat marking a grand reveal.
As you approach, the fog clears, and there it is—a magnificent entrance carved into the side of a glittering ice wall. The shape is unmistakably deliberate. Smooth edges. Symmetry. No way nature did this on her own. Your heart thumps, half-excited, half-disbelieving. Could it be? An actual ET base?! You’re not the type to jump to conclusions, but c’mon, this is pretty hard to deny.
Stepping inside, the air shifts. Warmer. Softer. Like walking into a cathedral where the silence is its own kind of music. The blue glow intensifies, illuminating sleek, smooth walls that almost seem to hum as you walk by. You’re suddenly aware of just how tall the ceilings are. Your eyes drift upward, and that’s when you see them.
Whoa.
Eight feet tall. Blue skin that shimmers like the northern lights. They’re elegant, with elongated features that seem wise, ancient, and—dare I say it—kind of fashionable. One of them tilts their head in curiosity. You’re struck by the sheer coolness of it all. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re thinking, “I’m gonna have a heck of a story to tell when I wake up.” One of them raises a hand, long fingers stretching out toward you. It’s not a ‘take me to your leader’ vibe. It’s more like, “Welcome home, friend. We’ve been waiting.”
You step forward, slowly raising your own hand. As your fingertips meet, it’s like touching a current of pure peace. Warmth. Familiarity. It’s as if they know you, like this meeting was always supposed to happen. They don’t speak with words, but you understand them.
“We’ve seen you before, traveler of dreams,” they’re saying, though not with mouths. It’s all feeling. “Long ago in a place you called Italy. You saw us then as you see us now. And now you’ve come to us once more.”
Your jaw drops. They know about Italy?! You’re tempted to blurt out, “Yeah, yeah, I’m that guy! You’re talking about me, right?” But before you can say anything, they’re already laughing—not with sound, but with waves of joy rippling through you.
“We’ve been with you on your journey,” they say. “From the ice, from the stars, from every place where imagination dares to dream.” Their words—well, thoughts—flood your mind with memories of your Antarctic adventure. You’re reminded of that still, quiet moment on the ice, surrounded by nothing but penguins and endless white. You’d felt it then, didn’t you? That extra something watching from beyond the veil.
Yeah, you’re nodding now. You knew it all along. More than penguins. Always more than penguins.
They’re inviting you now. Deeper into the base. As you follow, you notice small, glowing orbs hovering around you like curious fireflies. Each one flickers with a faint blue glow, zipping back and forth, playing with your hair like mischievous little sprites. It’s oddly charming. You’re half-expecting one of them to shout, “Tag! You’re it!”
They lead you into a grand chamber filled with technology so advanced it looks more like art than machinery. Smooth, fluid designs with no hard edges. Everything looks like it’s grown, not built. One of the taller beings gestures toward a central pedestal. A soft, pulsing glow rises from it. You’re drawn toward it like it’s calling your name.
You’re invited to place your hands on it. And why not? You’ve come this far. Your palms meet the surface, and suddenly—
Flash!
Memories flood you. Every moment of doubt. Every time you questioned your path. All those moments dissolve in a wave of laughter—not from them, but from you. It’s like you’re looking at your own story from a higher vantage point, and suddenly it’s clear. All of it. The detours. The “coincidences.” The paths you thought were dead ends. Turns out, it was all leading you here.
One of the blue beings smiles knowingly. “12 years, traveler. You’ve done well. Celebrate it. It’s no small thing to walk this path.”
You’re laughing now, tears of joy running down your face. “Twelve years, huh? Yeah, I guess I’ve earned this.” You’re suddenly flooded with gratitude—not just for them but for you. For every choice you made, even the ones that felt like mistakes. You’re finally seeing it for what it was: growth.
They’re clapping now, or at least their version of clapping. The orbs twirl around you, faster and faster, and suddenly it’s a full-blown celebration. Music (or something like it) reverberates through the room. The blue beings smile with pride. “Dance, traveler. You’ve earned it.”
And so you do. You dance like nobody’s watching. Except they’re totally watching, and they’re cheering you on. It’s a victory lap through 12 wild, weird, wonderful years. You’re moving with joy and freedom like a penguin on ice with zero cares in the world.
The glow intensifies, filling your vision with light. You’re back now, still feeling that rhythm in your chest. The ground beneath you is firm once again, but you’re changed. The air feels crisper. The world feels wider. As you open your eyes, you’re smiling like someone who’s just been let in on the universe’s best-kept secret.
Twelve years. And just like that, you’re ready for the next adventure.
Welcome back, brave traveler. You’ve seen more than penguins today. And you’ll never see yourself the same way again.












