We're Melting ...

The first thing we noticed was the blue ice melting.

My husband and I traveled to the Pacific Northwest last month, and one day found ourselves standing on top of a huge mountain of frozen cold, the Athabasca Glacier. Underneath our feet was a 1,000-foot-high pile of pressurized crystal, just one of many glaciers stretching out, like solid rivers of white, from the vast Columbia Icefield in Alberta, Canada.

What were we hearing as we stood on that ice roof? The sound of melting, as the purest substance known to humankind transformed from ice to liquid in rivulets all around us. We wandered along a luminescent blue creek that had formed right there on the glacier and tasted its waters. The sun was bright, despite the cold that emanated off the ice field, and the whole scene had an unworldly, make-believe quality to it, like something straight out of J.R.R. Tolkien's elf village of Rivendell.

But the melting was not make-believe. It was real and was not supposed to happening like that. Not at that rate. Not then and not for a very long time. Still, there it was taking place before our own eyes.

Many people visit glaciers these days to see for themselves whether the ice masses really are shrinking. It doesn't matter how many times they've seen the world's scientists line up and proclaim that the burning of fossil fuels enhances the greenhouse-gas effect, trapping heat in the atmosphere that really should be expelled. It doesn't matter because that's just a lot of words, too much science and, ultimately, too abstract for regular people to comprehend.

But once I'd stood on Athabasca, things were different. There was no more denying the truth of it: The glaciers were melting, the Earth was warming, and the danger to future generations is staggering.

Lisa, the young park guide, drove us -- in a strange snow vehicle with huge tractor wheels -- down a huge hill and out onto the vast white terrain of Athabasca, with its many crevices that opened deep, deep downward, farther down than the eye could see, into the huge body of ice. After a rugged and sloping journey, we got to the ice mass that existed below the vast white ice field. I asked her to explain to me about the retreat of the glacier, and she shrugged and said, point-blank, "Athabasca is melting."

Of course, it was summer, and a lot of glacier melt was expected that time of year. But the amount was a problem. It was too much, she said. The summer's melt wasn't supposed to be more than the winter's accumulation when taken overall. The glacier was supposed to balance out over the years and remain basically the same over the long haul. But it was not happening that way.

The glacier is disappearing.

Next, Lisa pointed up and over a vast moraine that towered hundreds of feet above where we were standing. Gesturing way up and over there, she explained how, about 30 years ago, the body mass of the glacier had stood way up there. "That's where Athabasca used to be," she said, indicating the distance with her hands.

That was when the enormity of what I was seeing really dawned on me.

One difficult thing to tackle in an essay about global warming is the still-widely held belief that's it's not really happening. Throughout the 1990s, scientific evidence piled up that documented the existence of the greenhouse-gas effect, caused by the use of fossil fuels, the destruction of forests and the release of industrial gases like chlorofluorocarbons. The studies found that these gases were causing the Earth to heat up. But a small number of scientists were unconvinced and believed the warming trend was part of a natural weather cycle that had occurred many times in history. The skeptics got a lot of attention -- especially from politicians who didn't want to regulate or affect the oil and automobile industries and others -- and basically stalled actions to solve the problem.