The town of Ilulissat in western Greenland where the Jakobshavn Glacier flows into the Ilulissat Fjord on the Atlantic Ocean.
Because the ground freezes hard all
winter, they dig as many graves in the
summer as they think will be needed
all year.
The blue hiking trail is a rough path with blue painted dots on the rocks to follow to
where the glacier breaks into pieces forming icebergs in the Ilulissat Fjord.
The yellow trail is rocks with painted dots leading to the fjord where the icebergs float away on the ocean.  The largest ones take
years to melt and have been seen as far south as off the coast of New York City.
The boats in the fjord show the massive
size of the floating ice.
The red trail is another path to the icy river.
They say there are more sled dogs
than people in Greenland, and they
are everywhere, often howling like
wolves.
These puppies are attacking my coat.
Four bodies keeping warm.
A helicopter flight over the fjord, showing icebergs on their way from the glacier to the ocean.
A close fly by the very blue glacial cliff.  
Standing on the ice.
A metal igloo for scientists who study
the glacier.
The far background shows the Greenland
ice sheet stretching off for hundreds of
miles.  The bluish cliff in the center is
where pieces have broken off and fallen
into the fjord.  The white on the left is the
icebergs floating in the water.
We landed near where the ice falls into
the fjord.
View out the window.
A nighttime boat ride through the icebergs.
Late at night, the light turns blue again.
Surrounded by miles of icebergs which block the waves, the ocean here is absolutely still, a perfectly flat mirror reflecting every
image.  Click on the pictures to see them fullscreen.
As day turns into night, the ice reflects more and more blue light.
An afternoon boat ride on the ocean, past Ilulissat Fjord, to watch the icebergs drifting out to sea.
The water is totally still, reflecting the ice formations like a mirror.
On the flight out of Greenland, we flew over the icebergs and glacier again.
On the left is the fjord, packed with
floating icebergs.  On the right is the
glacier, pieces falling into the fjord.
The ridges and furrows of broken ice look like deeply wrinkled elephant skin stretching as far as you can see.
Glaciers cover all of Greenland except the coasts, hundreds of miles of nothing but
white.  So much snow it forms rivers of mile-thick ice, so much ice crushing against
more ice that it buckles into a mesh of ridges, cross-crossing waves of ice casting
gray shadows on the white snow like an endless spiderweb.