In Antarctica the visual scale ranges from the microscopic to the mighty midgets and mites to blue whales and icebergs as big as countries. The writer refers to it as walking into a giant ping-pong ball devoid of any human markers, without trees, billboards, buildings. Days go on in 24 hours austral summer light. A ubiquitous silence, interrupted only by an occasional avalanche or calving ice sheet consecrates the place.