As we stood on the ship's bow, we watched as pink alpenglow highlighted just the tops of the surrounding peaks. Two 10,000 foot peaks frosted with fresh snow and clad in ice stood behind the Johns Hopkins Glacier, which wound down from the mountains and terminated in a 250-foot-high craggy wall of ice. Only the highest peaks were lit with the morning's first light, and this pink color reflected perfectly in the glassy water in front of the glacier. As we stood quietly, the light grew increasingly golden as it spread slowly across the peaks. The only sounds were crackles from the floating ice and the occasional cries of seabirds.
As the ship neared the glacier, our attention turned to its face of ice. Small bits fell from the front, crashing loudly into the water. A tower of blue ice seemed to crumble around its sides and suddenly, the entire formation calved into the water, sending up a huge splash. For the next several minutes, the center of the glacier repeatedly warned us in advance with small dribbles and then finally let go of massive pieces of ice. By the time breakfast was called, the center of the glacier had changed shape entirely.
