The drops fell rhythmically, metronomically, glassy orbs of exquisite beauty slipping into an icy abyss. I was transfixed, hypnotized by the simplicity, the sublimity, the entrancing meditation and profound power of it all, knowing these drops began as vapor carried from distant lands, fell as snow, melted, and would follow me and my companions some 1,600 miles to the Bay of Bengal, there to be heated, evaporated, condensed, and fall once more on yet another far away place.

I always get nervous before a big trip or expedition. But especially this time, taking my kids to Mount Kilimanjaro. Within the nervousness, though, is excitement about the life lessons they will soon learn.

How do we keep inspired during Covid-induced isolation and stagnation? Finding the new in the local, the seemingly mundane, can help.

Memories from the 2001 Mallory & Irvine Research Expedition, and discovering an old sock in the remains of the 1924 Camp VI.