The bike’s tires roll closer and closer
to the glacial expanse,
sharp, blue teeth remnants
of an age gone by;
in defiance of a warming planet,
grinding out of the mountains,
standing defiantly in the valley
it created.
I imagine a camera
positioned high overhead,
recording the glacier’s advances and retreats
over the millennia.
For a mercurially small instant
in the endless hours of footage
would be a flashof humanity;
a vague trace of the goings and comings of
bikers, skiers, snow machiners,
airplanes, helicopters, cars.
Moving silently, reverently through these blue bergs,
messengers from another time,
I feel like a time traveler
visiting an ancient world.
There is no camera in the sky.
I am the lens.
I roll away
and the glacier recedes in my vision.
I wonder: if future generations forget
there were once glaciers,
will they remember us,
those who lived to see them?
— Frank E. Baker
Eagle River
Have something on your mind? Send to letters@adn.com or click here to submit via any web browser. Letters under 200 words have the best chance of being published. Writers should disclose any personal or professional connections with the subjects of their letters. Letters are edited for accuracy, clarity and length.