NaNoWriMo Day 27

3 0 0
                                    

Icebergs are mountains too. If only Kathy had been more interested in the colder siblings of mountains, she would have found a plethora of more metaphors of life in these spectacular formations. Whereas the traditional mountain finds its origin in the excruciatingly slow movement of tectonic plates and is slowly shaped by erosion of ancient rocks, icebergs can break, move, flip and sizzle. Where the traditional mountain is the epitome of stability, balance, steadfastness and awe-inspiring grandness, the iceberg is treacherous and uncertain. Kathy would notice that we normally only see and speak about the tip of the iceberg, that roughly ten percent of the structure that sticks above the water. She would probably note that this is also true for our life's experience, where most of what goes on around us is hidden from plain sight but may come to haunt us. But let us dig deeper in the origin of the small tip to body ratio of the iceberg. Because like all things, it is a matter of balance. We think of the mountain as being in balance, but that is because the dynamic timescale is too long that we cannot see anything happen. They appear to be immortal, demigods, and more often than not the residence of the gods. The iceberg operates on a much smaller timescale; it is mortal like the rest of us. Life happens on mountains, bergs are alive themselves.

The moment bergs are born, torn violently from their mother ice-sheets, they have to fight for balance. They melt in the warmer waters and grow in the colder water or on top. They have to stay afloat in the water. This happens automatically, of course, the laws of physics demand the iceberg to stay afloat, but it has to find a position to satisfy all the needs of these laws. Faced with water currents, wind, waves and its own melting and growth, not to mention the visits of birds, bears, penguins and tourists, it has to seek continuous balance. It is not a question if, but when this balance is unattainable. Similar to frying balls of doughy pastry, there comes a moment that any disturbance tips the iceberg completely over. And when that happens, it releases a force that equals or surpasses that of an atomic bomb. For a big enough berg, of course. It is typical that the Dutch, living in their own flat Netherland, gave icebergs their name, ijsberg, berg meaning mountain of course.

Wrapped in special thermo-clothing, Tipi sat next to Tessa in the small cargo plane on its way from Christchurch for a six-hour flight towards the frozen continent.

"Bergy bits," Tessa said to pass the time. Tipi looked out the window to where Tessa was pointing. "Small icebergs," she explained. Tessa was a person of not too many words, and Tipi could respect that. The more you see and hear from a person, the larger the tip of the iceberg but also the larger the hidden secret bulk of underwater shit that will bite you in the ass.

An hour later they crossed an enormous ice sheet. "Is that land?" Tipi asked.

"No, it is one of the largest icebergs ever and it is on its way to an island group."

"that's nice, I've never been visited by an iceberg."

"Once it arrives, it first destroys the seafloor in a large radius around the island and all the endangered flora and fauna with it. Then it will engulf the island itself, changing its microclimate and making it impossible to reach the place."

"Wow, that sounds incredibly dangerous but impressive."

"They are like death, if you meet Him it is a big deal but also your last."

"Not much of a guru if you are afraid of Death," Tipi said.

"Keep that attitude alive," Tessa said.

The plane landed on the thick ice on a makeshift runway south of the research station. They got out and while cargo was being unloaded that passenger, most of which were researchers, walked on the ice towards Ivan. Ivan the Terra Bus was the unsightly, but charming passenger vehicle that would take them in about half an hour to the station on the nearby island. Tipi saw no difference between the ice and the land, although far away he could see dark tipped mountains.

Mountain QualiaWhere stories live. Discover now