Glacier Bay National Park
Blue-gray on white mix with lines of earth and rock Centuries of compressed time are stored in walls and towers of ice.
We spent early morning, both before and after breakfast, bundled up in warm weather gear and rain coats, in awe of the history stored within the ice of Johns Hopkins and Margerie Glaciers. Harbor seals popped their heads up out of the scruffy ice to peer at us, colorful gesticulating creatures inside a huge white berg of our own. Spiked chai warmed our hands as we listened to the sounds resonating over the cold water placid in front of the glacier face; powerful after-shocks from cascading ice hitting the sea surface with more power than we could imagine. It all seems so removed, until the ship starts to rock in response to the waves generated by the falling of tons of frozen water into the milky green of the ocean.
Later small creamy spots on the granite hillside of Gloomy Knob turn into stoic mountain goats, seemingly oblivious to the rain, as they stand grazing, or lie contemplating the onset of winter within the park.
South Marble island was noisy with the social interactions between Steller sea lions hauled out on smooth white-gray rocks. Pelagic cormorants and kittiwakes screamed at a juvenile bald eagle as it made a swooping descent of inconclusive outcome among them.
Bartlett Cove drizzled but did not deter us from stretching our legs along the road, the forest, the coast; mushrooms and green, green moss covered the branches and floor of this living forest, thriving in isostatic rebound from the release of glacier weight.
Glacier Bay National Park begins its transition into winter, and the Sea Bird starts her travels south, to return next year with spring.
Blue-gray on white mix with lines of earth and rock Centuries of compressed time are stored in walls and towers of ice.
We spent early morning, both before and after breakfast, bundled up in warm weather gear and rain coats, in awe of the history stored within the ice of Johns Hopkins and Margerie Glaciers. Harbor seals popped their heads up out of the scruffy ice to peer at us, colorful gesticulating creatures inside a huge white berg of our own. Spiked chai warmed our hands as we listened to the sounds resonating over the cold water placid in front of the glacier face; powerful after-shocks from cascading ice hitting the sea surface with more power than we could imagine. It all seems so removed, until the ship starts to rock in response to the waves generated by the falling of tons of frozen water into the milky green of the ocean.
Later small creamy spots on the granite hillside of Gloomy Knob turn into stoic mountain goats, seemingly oblivious to the rain, as they stand grazing, or lie contemplating the onset of winter within the park.
South Marble island was noisy with the social interactions between Steller sea lions hauled out on smooth white-gray rocks. Pelagic cormorants and kittiwakes screamed at a juvenile bald eagle as it made a swooping descent of inconclusive outcome among them.
Bartlett Cove drizzled but did not deter us from stretching our legs along the road, the forest, the coast; mushrooms and green, green moss covered the branches and floor of this living forest, thriving in isostatic rebound from the release of glacier weight.
Glacier Bay National Park begins its transition into winter, and the Sea Bird starts her travels south, to return next year with spring.
