Bouvet

I was there the day the sun came out at Bouvet. In fact I was not really there, but only on a wretched ship within sight of its ice-bound coast (and in fact I was not even there, since this is an entirely fabricated reminiscence), but I witnessed it from there, queasily, frigidly (I did not, I imagined it, comfortably and warmly). How fully, on that brief moment, the island was transformed! The dull monochrome picture of dirty ice and churning, turbulent water was pierced by a brilliant beam, a for a short time the landscape was overtaken by a mystery that was almost like color, almost like beauty. Then the sun was hidden again and the island returned to its hellish peace.