
It's cold enough now that the power plant gives off an impressive plume of steam, extending for (literally) miles downwind. For hours in the middle of each day, it blankets my entire world - station, flag line, and DSL - in shadow.

The snow has begun to take on an orangey-pink tint from the setting sun, and the landscape is filling with color for the first time since I arrived.

This time of year, every day is more beautiful than the last here at pole.
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