A yell reawakened me while I was fiddling with the equipment with practiced scrutiny. I dusted off my breeches and stood up to search the direction I heard the sound. Steam from my mouth fogged any recognition of the men dressed in red, marching around the spotless snow like ants. It was an interesting sight.

Once my breath cleared away, it didn’t take long for me to find the source of the voice. Capturing my attention, there were little, stout arms waving at me. On cue I placed gloved hands on the camera, which seemed to placate the men within the general area of the previously waving man.

The hollow wind carried away the distinct sound of the camera shutter, but the men cleared off after a photo was taken. The flash on this thing is unmissable and it was a good thing they wore eye protection in the form of a tinted visor.

I lifted off the camera to click through each photo I had taken so far, and it was plenty. Even without prompting of the men in stout, red suits, it would be impossible to take a photo. The environment around our team was scenic. Silent and breathless, the definition of uncharted territory (though very much charted with the fantastic invention of satellites). The fervour of our team was mellowed by the dangerous beauty of the icy desolation. However, that wasn’t the reason I was as eager as a tourist to do a photoshoot.

The next photo I landed on explained it perfectly. A gargantuan mountain of metal. That description of it would make it seem crude, but despite the devastation indicated by the crash site surrounding it, the visage was anything but. The round disk engulfed the viewer’s attention, it was pristine even in its damaged condition. A lone man in red protective clothing next to it only added to its splendour. The saucer dwarfed any large man in height and its design was completely alien. A spectacle to say the least, it was a groundbreaking discovery.

I longed to be as close as the men surrounding it, yet at the same time I was reticent. One would imagine a grand adventure, yet I was someone who was suited to anything but.

I observed the men pioneering the entry through a dark and gaping tunnel into the alien craft, and allowed them to be the one to experience the fun of it all for the first time. Meanwhile, I never left my station, content as a passive observer through a screen - or rather a camera lense.

Another flash and click from the camera, the moment before the stout red suits witnessed something life-changing. In satisfaction, I sat back and waited.

I was going to be with them too. I’ll be immortalised in history as the sole person behind the camera.