On search of the Polar Bear hooked on the end of an oil pipeline, I came across a remarkable natural sculpture: a clock ring of 12 icy lumps, monoliths of glacial ice counting up time. The work certainly intrigued the tourists. Children skipped delighted up to the glistening surfaces, the old and young absorbed by the huge blocks dripping quietly. A woman pushes her pram up to one enormous block so that her toddler can stroke his hand across its gently glowing surface, the translucent blocks scattering the light cast upon them. The students from the university gather around taking selfies and an elderly Japanese lady grins with the pleasure of the old for the young as her tiny grandson, maybe great grandson, runs around between them, first hugging one and then the next.
The names of the wise stare down on us from the University walls and I wonder how wise we are being. For us, Time is running out, the ice is melting, the span of human civilization from ancient man to our newest born child, is on the verge of falling apart leaving little but a sorry puddle left on the earth.