Visiting glaciers is exciting. I study the details of their rips, cracks and holes sharpening my senses in the hope of catching the next slide. I block all distractions – In my head, it’s just me and the glacier. Then I hear a crack. My heart starts racing and my head keeps turning from one side to the other.
Where did it come from?
Nothing seems to move. I continue to examine its rips, trying to guess which parts loose and are highly probable to break off in the next few minutes. I stare at it continuously, as if my glare could burn the last little piece that attaches it to the rest of the block. I hold my camera tight. I’m sure its going to happen any time soon.
I hear another crack. And another one. My head is spinning – I don’t know where to look anymore. And then, I see it – A big piece of blue glacier falls into the water at slow motion.
Not slow enough for me to turn on my camera. I will have to learn to be happy with only a mental picture then.