On the rocks
Water in its solid form. You can skate on it. Your car will slide on it. Add it to your favorite alcoholic beverage – expect, of course, wine. We don’t need ice in wine. Or beer. Although ice cold beer is wonderfully refreshing. All of that aside, let’s talk about ice. Big ice. Lots of ice all iced together in one big ice extravaganza. How about we call it a glacier?
You visit the glacier because it’s a big, dang hunk of ice. And you are enthralled with it’s big-ocity And beautiful blueness. Then, you see a chuck of it fall as though it’s been blown off. Someone has planted dynamite in that small section of glacier, flicked the switch and a portion drops into the water – silently, gracefully. It’s called calving – pregnant ice giving birth to little, bitty ice children.You don’t capture it on your camera because you’re not in sync with glacial birthing. That’s ok. You’re still a good person.
We visited the Hubbard glacier in May of 2008 – a big, glorious, beautiful piece of ice. We saw plenty of ice birthing, yet captured none of it.
The wall of ice was so beautiful and… icy. I imagined being tossed overboard as those on the Titanic had been thrust into the frigid Atlantic. Sitting in your balmy living room, it’s hard to imagine the agonizing cold of those fateful waters. But , sticking your hand in the freezer ice tray might do the trick.
There are always those who sport a jaunty, knitted hat for the occasion of looking at big hunks of ice.
Why is it blue, anyway? I’ve seen pictures of this ice big-ocity before and marvel at the blue.
Did the queen knit that jaunty hat?
I believe the queen knit a shawl on this trip. A lovely one, of course. From what I remember being told, the glacier is blue because ice absorbs red and yellow light rays but reflects and scatters blue light rays. Something like that – having to do with the physical properties of light blah blah and all.