The Glacier
We all know about the forest fire
The person who comes into your life as quickly as they leave.
They burn bright, hot, spectacularly
But behind them is a trail of destruction.
It's a clear cutting kind of disaster,
It destroys anything it can touch but you can't help but watch it with bated breath.
when it's over there is pain,
An empty field that was once filled with vibrant life.
However, under the death is new life.
Seeds that wait for a fire to spring into being
Birds and mice and squirrels will find their way back before long.
The forest rebounds in a surprisingly short amount of time.
I've seen my fair share of forest fires
I can recognize their path
But a glacier is new to me.
Unlike the bright blaze it moves at a snails pace.
A fire begs to be watched but who has time to watch the ice slowly retreat.
We don't call it a disaster; it's simply inevitable.
It leaves a wake, not of ash, but of barren unyielding rock.
Its runoff cuts into streams and alters their path, weakening banks, and reshaping landscapes.
But it happens imperceptibly slowly.
One day you are standing next to the edge of the ice feeling its sharp cold air while watching the fires grow and die, then you turn around and it's gone.
Yesterday it was only a step away, you swear.
Its slow retreat feels sudden, but it's been inching its way while you were distracted.
It's still in your sight, so the feeling of normalcy never quite leaves.
Then spring comes and you go to plant your roots, only to find your progress blocked.
How does a tendril grow through solid rock?
You were following the sheet subconsciously.
Now you have traded your fertile soil for this.
Down stream where you stood previously, the rivers flood.
As the glacier moved away from you, it overflowed the banks, wiping out life far away.
You can still see it. The edge is kilometers away when it used to be mere centimeters.
You could hike to it, but you need water and food,
But your ecosystem was left destabilized with the retreat.
Food is hard to come by, would you survive the walk?
And if you make it there, will you have to chase it as it continues up the cold mountain?
How long can you stay up here? Isolated from the rest of the world, just to be with something that won't stay with you.
So you decide following isn't the right thing to do.
Surviving is.
You need to learn how to live with your new unstable world.
You need to find a way to break through the rock and give new life to the barren land surrounding you.
It takes time. A lot of it.
And energy. So much energy.
There is no glacier to sit near and cool off when you are over heating. Only fires blazing around.
Slowly, the world begins to feel balanced again.
The moss has colonized the rock; in another few years roots will be able to take solid hold.
But still you turn to gaze at the ice.
It's farther away now. It is every time you look.
Maybe one day you will have the resources to go visit it.
Will you remember each other by then?