Glacier :: Nature Wildlife Geography Essays

Ice sheet The icy run off waterway was colder than ice, so cool it resembled a deluge of broken glass against the skin. The water itself is somewhat blue white, the shade of skim milk. On the bank of the frigid waterway, a hundred dead and decaying fish lay spread around like losses of an ongoing fight. The bodies lay in each phase of rot, from new, as though just pulled from the water, to unadulterated white skeletons stripped by foragers. The smell resembles a colossal gaseous petrol spill. The waterway itself is so packed with bringing forth silver salmon, that it takes after a monster jar of sardines. The daylight sparkling off their silver backs glimmers like cleaned chrome. These stunning fish are swimming upstream against the current, bouncing frequently with the force and deftness of an Olympic athlete. The landscape encompassing the stream is solidified tundra. It has disgusting green and earthy colored refuse on top because of the strangely warm summer, however burrow down an inch and you will experience ground as hard as concrete. The tremendous tundra is in sharp differentiation to the moving slopes far out yonder. The withdrawing icy mass truly carve its way through the scene, voiding this stretch of place where there is everything except for hard ground and cold grass. A great many long periods of cold development had cut an unmistakable scar that could peruse history just as any sedimentary stone. Out yonder you could unmistakably observe the limits of the antiquated ice sheet. Slopes abruptly show up out of the solidified no man's land. Tall evergreens sticking into the sky, seem as though monsters, even a good ways off, contrasted with the levelness of the tundra. Thick dark mists hang unfavorably over head, as though further compromising any one who may set out this rough nation. The mountains far away have rings around them like coronas, and one can see that they are purging their overwhelming weight upon the green mountain slants. When looking into the stream, you can tail it west and follow it to its source. There, stands a glorious heap of ice, known as portage icy mass. The icy mass unequivocally takes after a genuine mountain, one that has persevered through a snowstorm of exceptional extent. Rather than being an earthy colored soil slant with patches of white day off ice, it is the inverse. A totally white slant scarred with patches of earthy colored. The finish of the icy mass, which is about as distant as the eye can see, is squeezed against the ground, similar to a relentless power neutralizing an undaunted item.