Qilakitsoq & Uvkusigssat Region, West Greenland
Drifting. Eyes closed, lying upon our bunks, the mind sways with the gentle movement of the ship, drifting, moving from the world of dreams to the newness of the morning. Outside upon the pewter sea, like ghostly boats, icebergs glide by bound for who knows where. The charcoal sky is washed with indigo and each sculpted form glows with the faintest blue. Occasionally a portal is presented so one can peer deep inside the crack or crevice to see azure implanted within. Bands mark the years of snow compressed to ice. Straight ridges indicate readjustments made as the sea erodes the root and balance is compromised.
Clouds filtered down towering sheer cliffs, twisted and contorted like the rocks which formed the wall. Boulders, straight edged and angled cascaded toward the shore decorating the edges of a lush green cove. Qilakistsoq, "the sky is low", was an appropriate name for the place. Who were the people who came to this spot before? Fragments of their lives were visible to those who took the time to look. A foundation materialized, a rectangle of stone beneath the vegetative cover. Unnatural looking piles of rocks encouraged inquisitive eyes to peer inside. Our stares were met by empty stares from skeletons interred there. One could only imagine what life had been like in this remote and inhospitable place. Little food could be found upon the land, only a crowberry or two. Sustenance must have come from the sea and clothing must have too. High above, a distinctive boulder rested at the edge of the cliff. It beckoned one to climb and must have done so for millennia. Along an indistinct pathway a trail of graves was found. It was here some years ago that eight perfectly preserved bodies were uncovered dating back five hundred years. Their carefully sewn clothing and other artifacts allowed the world to envision a fragment of their lives. But no reader or museum visitor can view these objects and understand as we can for we have placed our feet upon their lands, stood upon these same stones and stared out into their sea. Yet, even with this knowledge we still can only let our minds drift and fill the vacant spaces.
Greenland’s coast is a maze of indentations. Islands litter the bays and fjords. Why are they here? How did the rocks form? There is no way to approach a place without wondering about the land. Passing the town of Uvkusigssat and entering Perlerfiup Kangerlua, we snatched glimpses of the icecap spilling its icy load down into the valleys. The glaciers were thinning, a shadow of their former selves. It was here that another mind had set to wondering many years ago. Why were the continents where they were? The giant jigsaw puzzle had to fit but how could that be so? His idea that they drifted was not so very wrong and was the stepping stone for the theory of plate tectonics. As a cautious man he wrote, "we have to be prepared always for the possibility that each new discovery, no matter what science furnishes it, may modify the conclusions we draw." Returning from the middle of the icecap in 1930 Alfred Wegener died en route to this same fjord.
Each day brings new discoveries and cautiously we synthesize, constantly expanding our horizons and understandings.
Drifting. Eyes closed, lying upon our bunks, the mind sways with the gentle movement of the ship, drifting, moving from the world of dreams to the newness of the morning. Outside upon the pewter sea, like ghostly boats, icebergs glide by bound for who knows where. The charcoal sky is washed with indigo and each sculpted form glows with the faintest blue. Occasionally a portal is presented so one can peer deep inside the crack or crevice to see azure implanted within. Bands mark the years of snow compressed to ice. Straight ridges indicate readjustments made as the sea erodes the root and balance is compromised.
Clouds filtered down towering sheer cliffs, twisted and contorted like the rocks which formed the wall. Boulders, straight edged and angled cascaded toward the shore decorating the edges of a lush green cove. Qilakistsoq, "the sky is low", was an appropriate name for the place. Who were the people who came to this spot before? Fragments of their lives were visible to those who took the time to look. A foundation materialized, a rectangle of stone beneath the vegetative cover. Unnatural looking piles of rocks encouraged inquisitive eyes to peer inside. Our stares were met by empty stares from skeletons interred there. One could only imagine what life had been like in this remote and inhospitable place. Little food could be found upon the land, only a crowberry or two. Sustenance must have come from the sea and clothing must have too. High above, a distinctive boulder rested at the edge of the cliff. It beckoned one to climb and must have done so for millennia. Along an indistinct pathway a trail of graves was found. It was here some years ago that eight perfectly preserved bodies were uncovered dating back five hundred years. Their carefully sewn clothing and other artifacts allowed the world to envision a fragment of their lives. But no reader or museum visitor can view these objects and understand as we can for we have placed our feet upon their lands, stood upon these same stones and stared out into their sea. Yet, even with this knowledge we still can only let our minds drift and fill the vacant spaces.
Greenland’s coast is a maze of indentations. Islands litter the bays and fjords. Why are they here? How did the rocks form? There is no way to approach a place without wondering about the land. Passing the town of Uvkusigssat and entering Perlerfiup Kangerlua, we snatched glimpses of the icecap spilling its icy load down into the valleys. The glaciers were thinning, a shadow of their former selves. It was here that another mind had set to wondering many years ago. Why were the continents where they were? The giant jigsaw puzzle had to fit but how could that be so? His idea that they drifted was not so very wrong and was the stepping stone for the theory of plate tectonics. As a cautious man he wrote, "we have to be prepared always for the possibility that each new discovery, no matter what science furnishes it, may modify the conclusions we draw." Returning from the middle of the icecap in 1930 Alfred Wegener died en route to this same fjord.
Each day brings new discoveries and cautiously we synthesize, constantly expanding our horizons and understandings.
