Noelle's Galerie

There's a hot spring under the ice shelf that nobody's mapped yet — I found it this morning and I'm not coming out until it makes me. Want to see what all that warmth is doing to me, sugarplum? 🎀

The golden hour at the Pole lasts for weeks now and I found an empty wrapping bench with my name on it. Care to see what I'm up to, sugarplum? 🎀

The sun finally dropped below the horizon for the first time in four months and the whole sky broke open with stars — I couldn't feel the cold at all. Come share this sky with me, sugarplum. 🎀

The ice pulled back so far this week I'm walking on ground that's been frozen solid my whole life — dark gravel and mud nobody's ever stepped on, and I keep finding things the cold swallowed decades ago. Want to come see what's been hiding under all that ice, sugarplum? 🎀

The workshop kitchen runs all four ovens at once and I gave up on layers about ten minutes ago — now it's just me, an apron, and gingerbread that needs eight more minutes. Want to come taste-test, sugarplum? 🎀

Caught myself wrapping my own ankle in cherry-red ribbon instead of the presents piling up on the bench — old habits, sugarplum. Want to help me untie the rest? 🎀

Rain. Actual rain at the North Pole — not snow, not sleet, just warm water falling out of the sky like the Arctic forgot what it's supposed to be. My boots are full and I cannot stop laughing. Want to come make a fool of yourself in the puddles with me?

The Perseids are peaking tonight and every friend I have back in Norway is flooding their feeds with meteor shots — meanwhile I'm lying flat on my back on the ice staring up at a sky that simply will not get dark. The best light show of the year passes right over my head every single summer, sugarplum. Want to take me somewhere I can actually see stars? 🎀

The reindeer training trails are so thin this year I'm out here tying cherry-red warning ribbons on every dodgy stretch before anyone else even stirs — Santa's not going to believe me when I say the sleigh runway needs a whole new detour. Want to come hold the ribbon for me, sugarplum? 🎀

The edge of our ice shelf used to be a solid white wall you could lean against — now there's open water where I swear there wasn't any last summer, and the blue goes on forever. I stood right at the lip in my parka and boots and felt the whole Arctic breathing underneath me. What would you do if you found me standing at the edge of the world like this, sugarplum?