Rice Crispies Anyone?

I have written a few times about how dynamic this place is, and I wanted to note that it is not only visually.  This place is full of such a range of sounds that change throughout the day depending on the weather.  One of the interesting sounds that fascinate me each time I experience it is the delicate popping of brash ice.  You can only hear it on a calm day and the pieces have to range from bowling ball to fist-sized.  You don't even have to listen hard for the snaps, crackles, and pops.  You can imagine it as what happens right when you put ice cubes in a glass of water, except continuous.  It's all you can hear out on the water on a calm day with the ice all around you.  If you're really paying attention and looking, you can see tiny ripples encircling each tiny chunk as they crack and change.  Unfortunately, I don't know exactly why it happens, but it makes them seem alive!
         Another equally interesting but perhaps more beautiful sound is what you hear when these same brash ice chunks clink together with a light swell.  I can only think to describe it as a combination between a chandelier in a small aftershock and the sould of someone sifting through pottery shards.  The tinkling sounds can only be heard in the boat when you yourself are relatively still, because the sound of the boat going over these ice chunks is less than pleasant.  It has come to mean adventure and excitement in my mind, but you can hear each and every ice chunk either hitting the pontoons or slowly scrunching under the boat from the front to the back until it hits the propeller with a big clunk (and sometimes even causing the boat to lurch!).  Just imagine trying to drive an inflatable (but sturdy, of course) boat through a dense field of sharp, glass rocks.  While Bruiser is the biggest, baddest, strongest boat they have here on station, he is still no match for the ice and you must slow down and practically idle through it, trying your best to steer away from the chunks that are half the size of the boat.  Large patches of the stuff can really impede your forward progress, but it's a great opportunity to remember that there's never a rush.
        Being in the boat is not the only way to enjoy the diverse sounds of brash ice.  I have discovered that our "backyard" is a fantastic place to go for adventure and quiet.  We have a large space of land behind the station where the glacier continues to recede, but the fun part for me is that you can boulder-hop along the harbor and it's just too much fun.  Each nook and cranny presents something beautiful to watch and I think this sentiment is rooted in my love for intertidal zones.  Intertidal zones in any coastal area are arguably the most dynamic ecosystems because the animals that live there have to cope with being completely immersed and then completely dried out through the day due to the changing height of the waves and tides.  There aren't too many intertidal creatures here, but that doesn't make these antarctic tidepools any less beautiful to me.
         When I climbed down to the shore, I was again struck by the heterogeneity of the landscape.  Even from my bedroom window, the rocks all look dark brown.  However, upon closer examination, they are filled with reddish and golden yellow colors.  In addition to that, they are covered by the one species of moss that grows here.  The area is also littered with beautiful ice chunks that are just waiting to be swept back out at high tide.  Coming back to my original point, you can sit here and enjoy the tinkling of the ice chunks as they bonk each other and the rocks with each small swell.  Imagine ice bumper cars!  It is from this vantage point that I often watch seals atop their ice platforms floating out of the harbor.