Glacial Humanity

By Eleanore Allan-Rahill

 

Glacial Humanity explores the themes of memory, value systems, and change through the lens of glacial landscapes. This collection reflects on what the natural world can teach us about being human: the importance of moving slowly, being in community, knowing individual strength, studying the past, and considering many factors of influence. Not only can glaciers teach us how to be with ourselves and the people around us, but also how to address the climate issues that are impacting glaciated landscapes themselves, recognizing that these two actions are interconnected.

These poems were originally written during a summer fieldwork season in Southeast Alaska as part of the Juneau Icefield Research Program. This writing was inspired by the beautiful land that is the traditional, unceded territories of the Lingít (Tlingit), Xaadas (Haida), and Ts’msyen (Tsimshian) peoples.

 

Fabric of Memory

Ice remembers.
Its structure holds the story.
Crystalline arrangements reveal the past.

Pushed from the side by mountains
pushed down upon by overlying snow
pushed again from the side

pressure building
stressors in many directions.

When pushed one way,
durability against that pressure grows,
a visible transformation.

But toughness in one direction requires softness in others,
a malleable resistance.

Strength is both.
Each time it is pushed anew, the structure changes.
Each change leaving a lasting mark.
Evidence of past experiences, accumulating.

When studied closely,
the stitches can be seen.
Each thread a story of the past.

These alterations are not simply scars.
What was once many individual snowflakes
through pressure, stress, and time,
have been arranged together.
Now, an unexpectedly beautiful quilt.
The fabric tells the story.

 

The Mouth

I jumped into a crevasse today.

On a rope,
I hung,
suspended,

the mouth of the glacier gaping around me.

There,
I got to thinking

It was quite something to be engulfed by this hole
which appeared to never end
to be within the massive glacier, knowing of its power, its potential for destruction

and to feel no fear.

Instead, a sense of calm.

Observing the space around me
a space seemingly so still.
But, in this observation,
seeing signs of motion.

It eats itself alive
constantly churning
macerating its matter
large blocks fall
wedged between snowy walls
smaller slabs sink,
out of sight
to the unknown depths below.

It tosses and turns
grows wider
falls in upon itself
processing
before spitting it out the other end
down the icefall.

To be in a space so overwhelmingly large and powerful,
within something that could be your death
and feel only a sense of peace and wholeness.
Reverence for this being,
who can hold so much chaos and calm at once.

Dangling there,
I was as it was:
suspended between
stillness, calm, peace,
motion, danger, destruction,

Powerful plurality.
What a beautiful way to be.

 

The Icefall

It seems impossible to comprehend its mass and force,
no scientific quantification could do it.

Looking from above, I know it’s gargantuan,
each of the hundreds of seracs and cracks I see,
meters larger than they seem.

There really are hundreds of them.
No.
Thousands, it must be.
Arranged in an unarranged fashion.

An analog for its appearance
does not seem to exist.
Incomparable?

Each crack, serac, or snowbridge distinct
yet similar to those which surround it.
Mimicry.
A pattern of disorganization.

From far away, it seems to be all one thing.
Closer up,
it is plain to see the many individual components.
It is both.
Impossible to understand, if we see it as only one or the other.

Each component beautiful on its own,
but particularly stunning when seen as a whole,
within its community.

Comparable.

Like the crevasse in which I found myself yesterday,
The Icefall,
passive evidence of its own flow

Though flow is not the word this landscape evokes.
These large chunks of fractured ice in pillars and sheets of varying heights.

Chaos.

It all seems to come back to chaos.
A beautifully stoic disorganization
a tranquil, peaceful sort of destruction.

The ice has no care or control over where it goes,
guided
by the surrounding rocks and ice

It travels down its course
not knowing its final destination
nor what will happen in its passage
not determined to get to any particular place
nor tied to being any one way
no value associated with any form or path

it just flows along,
through the chaos
taking the changes as they come
only hints of resistance.

Some ice will melt to water
end up in the ocean.
Evaporate
precipitate again.
It will lose parts of itself
collide with new parts

losing, gaining, transforming.

It may assume many forms
water, snow, firn, ice,
presenting different identities
countless times.

There is no terminus to change