The Men Who Moil for Walruses: Day 215

"Strange things are done, 'neath the midnight sun, by the men who moil for walruses."
                                                                                                    - Robert Service

For those who are unfamiliar with Robert Service's The Cremation of Sam McGee, it is probably worth mentioning that the line above is intentionally misquoted.  According to Mr. Service, the only ones doing strange things under the midnight sun are men who moil for gold, however given that this photo was taken somewhere between midnight and 3 in the morning, I think my amended quote is equally appropriate. Cruising around the sea ice in small  boats in the middle of a light-filled night, collecting skin and blubber biopsies from walruses using crossbows definitely qualifies as strange in my book.  Sometimes, though, in the midst of it all, the strangeness fades and becomes something else.  In this case, something serene.  The wind had calmed until it was barely a breath, and the water had taken on an almost oily stillness.  Solstice had come and gone, and even the midnight sun was beginning to tire, dipping close enough to the horizon to add a touch of pastel color to the clouds and soften the lighting of the sky.  In the foreground a healthy, adult walrus is contemplating it all, perhaps thinking about the meaning of its existence.  Though the sheer size, worn quality of the tusks, and excessive wrinkling of the skin around the neck might point towards this animal being a bull, she is in fact an old girl, of nearly monumental size and imperturbable character.  Which is to say, we biopsied her and she didn't even flinch.  Thank you, old girl, for the sample, the photo, and the memory I won't soon forget.

- Casey

Canon EOS Digital Rebel XT1, Canon EF 70-200mm f/4L USM, ISO-100 f/4.5 @ 1/125 sec.