This image takes us back nine years to my first photographic visit to a polar area. We could have been no more than a day or two into the trip when, in northwest Svalbard, I got to see a polar bear in the wilderness for the first time.
It was cold, I was excited. I was shooting from a small zodiac with around ten other photographers, I didn't have the use of a tripod or even a steady patch of ground to keep myself grounded. And there was a crazy dramatic sunset poking through the mountains precisely in back of me, glaciers on the mountain, and birds flying in the air just to complete the picture.
I went through multiple memory card changes that afternoon, and a battery change as well, and it was really only when I got back to the Mikheev that I realized just how cold and exhausted I was.
I suspect that really was a turning point for me, that began my obsession with the high latitudes. In five months I should be getting my next taste, and I can't wait.