The first official day of summer smelled like winter. The entrance to Tracy Arm was dotted with large
icebergs, some as big as houses. And as we passed them, we could feel the cold
and smell the ice and snow.
We
moved up the inlet, slowly, anticipating what was to come. The water turned the
most amazing shade of aquamarine. The channel grew narrower, more intimate,
with every mile that passed under our keel.
“Why
isn’t this considered one of the natural wonders of the world,” David asked.
Before I could answer I heard, “because you can’t drive to it.”
Each
granite face carries the scars of its past and has a story to tell . . . is telling
a story: The story of its life. How it was carved and changed by the forces of
melting snow and ice.
In the clearing stands a
boxer and a fighter by his trade.
And he carries the reminders
of every glove that laid him down or
cut him until he cried out in his anger
and his shame,
“I am leaving. I am
leaving.”
But the fighter still remains.
Simon & Garfunkel
We
were staring at the remnants of the last ice age, a fact neither of us could
escape. I heard David softly say, “It’s hard not to get choked up over
something like this. It’s just so raw.”
Raw is the perfect word .
. . the perfect emotion.
The words I have can barely describe these
surroundings. Majestic? Breathtaking? Awesome? Imposing? Or simply
overwhelming? Yes, these and more as all the appropriate superlatives have been
wasted on lesser things. Initimidated. Awestruck. By the raw immensity.
Unspoiled purity. Power. Substance. Sheer magnificence. Visceral beauty. Gut
wrenching in-your-face splendour ... no churchyard blushing rose this.
I’m sure that, in these surroundings, the collective
pens of Thomas Gray, Wordsworth, Coleridge or Keats would have been well
challenged. Low-lying clouds brushing over ice-blue glaciers. The sun’s rays
bringing forth colours and hues I have never before seen in my whole life and
which exist beyond the limits of my imagination. Simply stated, the landscape
has one message “Pay attention – I am Special. I am beautiful. In terms of your life span I am immortal.
Forged by fire and incredible forces long ago, I was once intact. Whole. Until
the moving ice packs ripped at my flesh; tore open great gashes in my skin;
ground me into dust and gravel. Wind, snow, ice, rain and the melting glacial
water cut deeply and carried away pieces of me; millenia of freeze and thaw all
have shaped me – changed my aspect. Yet here I still stand. Proud. Splendid.
Truly magnificent. Not only am I of this land, I am this land. You are merely a
visitor. I am substantial. At best, you are but a shadow passing briefly across
the face of the earth.” – David
All
too soon the sun dipped below the towering mountains, covering the scene in shadowy
darkness. Our time in Tracy Arm was over.
Note: This blog was written on Sunday,
21 June, 2015.
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