Glaciers seem like stoic monuments, resting quietly among alpine peaks.
Glaciers seem like stoic monuments, resting quietly among alpine peaks. From afar, they appear static and permanent, but for scientists engaging in meticulous fieldwork, the up-close view of the ice offers a vastly different perspective.
On a hot day in August 2024, glaciologist Mauri Pelto and his team worked their way up the Easton Glacier, on the flanks of Mount Baker in Washington. The glacier’s surface was alive with flowing water. A network of small channels fanned out across the ice, sparkling with fresh meltwater. Gurgling rivulets gathered into larger streams and carved channels into the ice. Some of the meltwater tumbled into a hole—called a moulin—making a deep, echoing sound as it disappeared and made its way down to the base of the glacier. Near the glacier’s terminus, a muddy river sent recently melted ice surging downstream to the Baker River and toward the Pacific Ocean.
Mauri is the founder of the North Cascade Glacier Climate Project. He works with his daughter, Jill Pelto, who is both a climate scientist and artist. Each summer, the father-daughter team invites a rotating crew of scientists, journalists, and artists on their field expedition. The 2024 field season marked the 41st year of detailed measurements on 16 different glaciers in Washington’s North Cascade mountains, which stretch 115 miles (185 kilometers) from Snoqualmie Pass to the Canadian border. The project’s mission is to learn how the glaciers across the entire mountain range are responding to climate change.
Read more at NASA Earth Observatory
Image: NASA Earth Observatory image by Wanmei Liang, using Landsat data from the U.S. Geological Survey.
