The Meaning of Losing a Glacier

I hear words of anguish, “whys” yelled at the heavens, others screamed beneath the Seas. Mourning what we nearly see. Is it all because of their exotic, shiny skin? Bare surfaces taking us back to times of white golden lights? We might drown in tears, but why is it? We cry for the Water, perhaps: our shared translucent blood. Is it all about the sacred liquid? Or is it the shiver we feel as the first rays of sun melt the sweat on our foreheads? I have heard Glaciers are who bring us food to the table -strawberries, blueberries, sugar-snap peas-; fresh delights nurtured by the liquified bodies crawling down sharp, deadly Stones, until they end their journey in our palates, delivered via the stacked industrial refrigerators of the modern world.

Weddell Sea, Antarctica 2018

Are these the source of

our despair?

Geotextile blankets, large white sheets to “shield” Ice and Snow from the Sun. A dire measure to preserve commercial Caves, exclusive ski resorts. Too little, too small. Critical states, ineffective gestures ignoring the underlying uncomfortable truth. They say that political instability in Venezuela directly led to the early demise of the Humboldt Glacier; the turmoil made it impossible for scientists to conduct crucial monitoring for several years. Yes, we could’ve been there -on time- to testify, but would that have prevented the dilution of those ancient

tales?

Magic powder: aerosols of sulphur dioxide, fancily named “Stratospheric Aerosol Injection” to dim the very force of the Sun. Worldly power now acts as the mighty Volcano, bringing up the boiling earthly core, unleashing a synthetic-like eruption of dust, changing the light for millions.

Or then again, no.

If not up, then down. Monstrous walls to stop the Oceans intruding were Glaciers once rested, their ancient beds, now overflown with the involuntary, unpredictable rise of the Seas. Fueled by a needy self-concern, we question our resolve to abandon the excessive commodities we think our lives depend on. Better not turn off the saw, better not pull up the drill. Let the Earth bleed… while worldly powers present the ultimate delusion of planetary-scale interventions designed to deliberately alter the dynamics of the climate. Arguments grow louder in caves filled with echoing truths: melting in 2023 alone raised 1.5 mm of the Seas. No doubt extreme melting with increasing frequency and severity makes it almost unbearable for some to breathe: numbness born of fear - perhaps part of a dangerous strategy- a paralysis serving just a few. Who wouldn’t be willing to give their heart to kill the sharp pain of suffocation?

Weddell Sea, Antarctica 2018

Indeed, it’s late. The end of the world was not meant to be one for all, and at the same time. For some, it has already started. The Oceans have already taken the land of Tuvalu, storms have broken countless families, crops, and living beings are thirsty, perishing one after the other. In a corner of the world, aching voices murmur the Zareef et Tool lament -another growing tragedy from the same egocentric malaise. Over the period from 2015 to 2024, disasters triggered nearly 265 million human forced movements globally, equivalent to displacing one person every second for a decade. At least 467 species have become extinct.

But at the high Mountains of Ladakh, the aching didn’t break but inspired the spirit. In their place, magnificent conical ice structures—stupas—are being built, mediating the relationship between humans and their melting Water towers. Beautiful sculptures giving everyone to drink. Human hands use gravity-fed pipes, sculpting with Water that freezes instantly in the biting Wind. Elsewhere, humans harvest avalanches, treasuring each frozen Seed on metallic canvas, woven by faithful hands patiently waiting for the Snow to densify until they give birth to glaciaretes. Seasonal oasis for deserted times. Regenerative futures are being built in countless corners of the world, not by re-engineering wisdom we merely understand, but by collaborating with Mother Earth to heal and adapt to nurture with deep affection.

Do not despair.

Why go in search for the cure in the past? Why lose precious time feeding the voracious need to point out the guilty hands? We were made for these times. We are the very substance for a new conscience to deeply root in fertile ground: a compost made from hopelessness and shame, a humus abundant enough to feed all our fearless hearts. I couldn’t see it myself through the trauma haze: red debris would cover me till I couldn´t breathe. Silhouettes of colourless Soil had to burn my sight to finally see beyond the light, expecting no image in return.

If you had only given a pulse to the Ocean, it would have been enough,

if you had only reflected the dawn on your skin, it would have been enough,

if you had only given Water for a single season, it would have been enough,

if you had only carved a single Valley for us to call home, it would have been enough,

if you had only covered a single Mountain, it would have been enough,

if you had only brought me down to tears, it would have been enough,

knowing you are there, it’s more than enough.

Antarctic Peninsula, 2023