Photo Friday: Yerupaja

The mountain Yerupaja in the Cordillera Huayhuash locates at the west central Peru. It is part of the Peruvian Andes and ranks as the second highest mountain in Peru. As one of the hardest mountains along the Andes to climb, it draws mountaineers from all over the world, who come to conquer this high peak.

For more photos featuring glaciers from Peru, look here.

Photo Friday highlights photo essays and collections from areas with glaciers. If you have photos you’d like to share, let us know in the comments, by Twitter @glacierhub or email us at glacierhub@gmail.com.

[slideshow_deploy id=’2784′]

Indigenous Livelihoods at Bolivia’s Highest Mountain

A new study conducted at Sajama, the highest mountain in Bolivia, shows that local indigenous populations have been able to adapt to the changes in water resources that result from glacier retreat. Other environmental changes, as well as shifting economic and political circumstances, have also shaped their responses. Villarroel and her coauthors describe the area in detail in their recent paper in the journal “Mountain Research and Development.”

Wetland in Sajama National Park (source: Lorini/AguaSustentable)
Wetland in Sajama National Park (source: Lorini/AguaSustentable)

With an elevation of 6542 meters, Sajama, an extinct volcanic cone, rises more than two kilometers above the surrounding plains, known as the altiplano. Precipitation is concentrated in a short rainy season in this semi-arid region. The vegetation varies with elevation and topography, with large areas of grassland, sections with shrubs, and some wetlands, which are concentrated along the streams that are fed by glacial melt and groundwater from the mountain. Though the wetlands are relatively small in area, they have great economic and ecological importance, because the herbs, sedges and grasses that grow in them remain green throughout the year.

The indigenous Aymara of the altiplano have long practiced livelihoods that are suited to this environment, centered on the raising of alpacas, a native ruminant that was domesticated millennia ago in the Andes. They carefully maintain irrigation channels that distribute water from the streams, expanding wetland areas. Though profoundly influenced by Spanish colonial rule and by the policies of the national governments of Bolivia, the Aymara have a high degree of self-government, in which communities govern the affairs of the many hamlets that compose them, through structures of customary leaders and assemblies. These communities gained recognition in the 1950s, and received additional support in the 1990s through constitutional reforms and the creation of a national council of indigenous communities.

Villarroel and her coauthors have traced the shifting patterns of water use and alpaca herding through “rights mapping methodology,” integrating the methods of the Nobel prizewinner Elinor Ostrom for studying natural resource management with participatory mapping based on Google Earth images. They found that the Aymara communities around Sajama had for decades practiced communal grazing. Households had free access to the community’s grasslands, which provide grazing during the rainy season. They also were able to graze their animals on the wetlands associated with their hamlets.

Alpacas at Sajama (source: twiga269/Flickr)
Alpacas at Sajama (source: twiga269/Flickr)

Pasture has become a scarce resource in the last two or three decades, as the water supply in streams has decreased because of glacier retreat. The population of the communities has also grown, increasing demand for pasture. Overgrazing had become a problem. In response, the communities shifted to delimiting grassland areas to which particular households have access, and individual hamlets have fenced off the wetlands. In this way, they can better limit the number of alpacas that graze in any area. They also organize meetings between hamlets and between communities to resolve disputes over access to water from streams. In addition, many households now purchase alfalfa and barley, trucked in from moister regions of Bolivia, to use as supplementary fodder. A number of the men leave the region for several months a year, earning wages to pay for this fodder.

Irrigation canal in a wetland in the Bolivian altiplano (source: Coppock/Rangelands)
Irrigation canal in a wetland in the Bolivian altiplano (source: Coppock/Rangelands)

The Sajama National Park has also influenced the response to water scarcity. Founded in 1939 as Bolivia’s first national park, it began active conservation management only in 1995, virtually eliminating alpaca grazing in the higher grasslands, and reducing hunting as well. These restrictions have led to the growth of populations of pumas and foxes, predators of the alpacas, and have brought about a resurgence of the vicuña, which had become locally endangered.

The loss of access to this area has placed further pressure on the other grasslands and on the wetlands, but it has also brought a new income source to the communities. They conduct annual round-ups of vicuña herds, in which the animals are shorn and then let free, in a kind of “catch and release” program. The wool commands a high price on the world market, and provides a supplementary livelihood. The participation of Aymara communities in the management committees of the park seems likely to assure that this arrangement will continue. Though this and other forms of market involvement allow the Aymara communities to continue other forms of traditional livelihood and self-governance, it adds another source of vulnerability as well, as Villarroel and her coauthors point out. It exposes local populations to price fluctuations, and may provide incentives to weaken community control of resources, at a time when further glacier retreat could water scarcity more acute. The future may well bring additional challenges to these resilient communities.

GlacierHub has also covered the involvement of indigenous communities in national park management in Peru.

GlacierHub’s Top Ten Posts in 2014

14561264735_824e8ab1ae_h

  1. Will An Icelandic Volcano Erupt Under A Glacier In 2015?
  2. Craters Have Appeared On Two Glaciers In Iceland
  3. Glacier Archaeology Comes Of Age
  4. Artists Stage Glacier Worship In Peru For Climate Change
  5. The Risk Of An Exploding Glacier is Heating Up In Iceland
  6. Bhutan’s Glaciers and Yak Herds Are Shrinking
  7. If A Glacier Melts On A Mountain, Does Anyone Hear It?
  8. As Glacier Melt, Bodies Resurface
  9. Flooded With Memories In Nepal
  10. A Walk To A Place Where The “Mountains Are Weeping

Late December brings an opportunity for those of us at GlacierHub to look back over 2014. We launched the site on 7 July, and have published 140 posts since then.

Three of the ten top stories of the year have featured Barðarbunga, the volcano in Iceland that erupted in late August and has continued to issue lava ever since. There were several moments when it appeared that lava might emerge under Vatnajökull, the country’s largest glacier, which would lead to vast clouds of steam and ash, and create a risk of outburst floods as well. Though such an event has not taken place, it remains within the realm of possibility. Barðarbunga was the topic of the story in seventh place for the number of pageviews, the mid-August announcement that an eruption was likely. The second-place story, in September, reported on craters that appeared on glaciers, the result of subsidence as magma flowed out from under them to other places on the surface. And the story with the largest number of pageviews was published the day before Christmas. It discussed the announcement by a Danish bank that a major eruption of Barðarbunga is one of the serious, underrated threats to the world economy in 2015, since the release of ash could threaten crop yields and food supplies in many regions.

Lava at Bardarbunga and volcanic gasses (Photo: Ragnar Axelsson/ Morgnebladid)
Lava at Bardarbunga and volcanic gasses (Photo: Ragnar Axelsson/ Morgnebladid)

Also in the top 10 are two stories on science and two on art. The science posts are closely related topically. Both of them examine the study of things that have emerged from retreating glaciers. One discusses human remains—some thousands of years old, others only decades old—that had been preserved in ice and have recently appeared. Another, the third highest-ranked story in 2014, gives an overview of the field of glacier archaeology and the new journal that discusses research in this area.

Arrows with shell points recovered from the Løpesfonna snow patch. (a) T25172; (b) T25684. Photo by Åge Hojem:NTNU-Museum of Natural History and Archaeol- ogy. Layout Martin Callanan. Callanan et al, 2014, Journal of Glacier Archaeology, Vol. 1. Norwegian University of Science and Technology.
Arrows with shell points recovered from the Løpesfonna snow patch. (a) T25172; (b) T25684. Photo by Åge Hojem:NTNU-Museum of Natural History and Archaeol- ogy. Layout Martin Callanan. Callanan et al, 2014, Journal of Glacier Archaeology, Vol. 1. Norwegian University of Science and Technology.

The art posts, by contrast, are related spatially, since they are both set in the Peruvian Andes. One story from August reports on a trip made by a musician and an anthropologist to record the sounds made by ice and water at different points on a glacier. Another story, from October, details the installations and performance pieces produced by a group of two dozen artists and a dozen indigenous herders who camped for ten days near a glacier.

Tomás Tello recording sounds of dripping water at Quelccaya glacier. Photo: Gustavo Valdivia)
Tomás Tello recording sounds of dripping water at Quelccaya glacier. (Photo: Gustavo Valdivia)

The remaining three stories also form a group. They consist of personal narratives by anthropologists of travels from lower areas up towards glaciers. They all discuss the experiences of the individual writer and of the people whom they meet along the way. Each of them links glaciers with memories, telling of how people saw glaciers in earlier times and how glaciers serve as records of change. Pasang Yangjee Sherpa, who grew up in Kathmandu, traveled to the remote high villages where her parents were born. As she spoke with local residents, she came to understand their reticence in speaking of these disasters. Gísli Pálsson trekked up to a glacier in a distant part of his native Iceland with his wife and two friends; though they anticipated nothing more than a day-long outing, their walk brought surprises—meeting foreign tourists as well as locals, facing difficulties on the trail, recalling earlier periods of Icelandic history, encountering unexpected sights and sounds. And I wrote one about a hike in Bhutan last October, where I met a yak-herder who told me of the changes he has seen in decades of visiting glaciers, and whose observations prepared me when I came upon yak-herder camps on high ridges.

Trail in Pharak. (Pasang Sherpa)
Trail in Pharak. (Pasang Sherpa)

These four sets of stories might seem very disparate, since they cover a natural hazard, science, art and personal experiences and memories. But they show how glaciers can command human attention and emotion, whether anxiety about a possible disaster, the curiosity of scientists, the esthetic concerns of artists, or the personal experiences and memories of people who inhabit mountain regions. One lesson, perhaps, is that glaciers serve so well to convey the importance of climate change because they address not only the material side of life but the imaginative side as well.

This appeal of glaciers ranges not only over topics but over places as well. GlacierHub received visits from 175 countries. People came to the site from every country in the world, with only a handful of exceptions—a contiguous set of African countries centered in the Sahel with the two outliers of Botswana and Somalia; Afghanistan and Turkmenistan; and North Korea. The United States and Britain were, unsurprisingly, the two countries with the largest number of visitors, but the top 25 included some smaller countries with glaciers, both within western and central Europe (Switzerland, Norway, Austria, Iceland) and elsewhere (Bhutan, Nepal, Peru, Chile, Georgia).

14952346490_7a25c7ce1b_k

We look forward to an active year in 2015. Science, art and personal experience are likely to continue as themes. Unexpected events may also capture our attention. And issues of politics and policy—well-represented in our posts though not in the top 10—may grow in importance as well. We welcome our readers to send us suggestions for topics, and to contribute posts of their own as well.

As Peru’s Glacier Vanish, Villagers Appeal To The Gods

Peruvian villagers trek up Peru's Mount Hualca Hualca to make an offering to a mountain lord. (Photo: Astrid Stensrud)
Peruvian villagers trek up Peru’s Mount Hualca Hualca to make an offering to a mountain lord. (Photo: Astrid Stensrud)

In October 2011, while I was conducting ethnographic research on water and climate change in southern Peru’s Colca Valley, I was invited to join the villagers of Pinchollo on a hike up to the point at the foot of a glacier where meltwater starts flowing down towards the village. There, we offered a gift to the mountain lord Hualca Hualca, whom they regard as a living and powerful being. The gift contained dried alpaca fetuses, llama fat, maize, coca leaves, sweets, fruit, flowers, wine and chicha, a kind of maize beer. As the leader of the village irrigation group presented these gifts, he asked Hualca Hualca to not forget the people, to give them more water and to protect the village. At that moment, a large chunk of ice fell down. The villagers understood this to mean that Hualca Hualca was pleased with the gift and was saying to them, ‘Look, here is the water!’

Rising 6,025 meters above sea level in the southern Peruvian Andes, Mount Hualca Hualca provides several villages in the Colca Valley with glacial meltwater for irrigation and human consumption. In the village of Pinchollo, about sixty percent of the fields are irrigated with water from Hualca Hualca. During the last couple of decades, however, villagers have been increasingly noticing glacial shrinkage and decreasing water levels in the springs, which are fed by rainwater and meltwater.

(Photo: Astrid Stensrud)
(Photo: Astrid Stensrud)

Several mountain springs have dried up completely during the last few years. Local people are starting to blame global warming, as they frame water scarcity in new narratives that are promoted by national and international NGOs and governmental agencies. Moreover, though water is scarcer, the flow of the meltwater is stronger when it does occur, destroying the canals and eroding the soil. Hence, the water flows downvalley rather than being used for irrigation. The villagers are concerned that the water will be wasted as it flows down into the Pacific Ocean. One of the elderly peasant farmers in Pinchollo expressed his concern about Hualca Hualca in this way:

“In August and September there is a strong flow that starts in the glacier, it is the meltwater. The white snow can no longer be seen after September. There is less ice than before. […] If the glacier disappears, there is no life anymore; there is no village anymore. The mountain supports us. Who will contain the thaw? Earlier the snow of Hualca Hualca reached the foot of the mountain. Now there is little snow.”

Living with the highly unpredictable weather in the semi-arid Andean mountain environment, the peasant farmers are dependent on water and the administration of it, including modern institutions of water management as well as various other-than-human beings like the mountain lord to whom we made an offering.

(Photo: Astrid Stensrud)
(Photo: Astrid Stensrud)

Today, global warming produces effects on temperature, precipitation, seasonality, glacier retreat and water supply. The dwindling resources lead to new uncertainties about the future. Peru contains seventy percent of the world’s tropical glaciers, which are the most visible indicators of climate change due to their sensitivity to increased temperatures and the visibility of their shrinkage. According to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), there has been a 22 percent reduction of the total glacier area in Peru during the last 35 years, and a reduction of up to 80 percent of glacier surface from very small glaciers the last 30 years.

For the peasant farmers in Colca Valley, climate change is not something that may happen in the future but is an immediate, lived reality that they struggle to apprehend, negotiate, and respond to. The valley is a poverty-stricken area where a peasant family might lose everything in case of a failed harvest: without savings and insurance they would be dependent on government relief, help from the community, expensive credit loans, or alternative income-strategies to make ends meet.

(Photo: Astrid Stensrud)
(Photo: Astrid Stensrud)

This challenge is the main concern in the article “Climate Change, Water Practices, and Relational Worlds in the Andes”, published online in Ethnos: Journal of Anthropology. The article argues that ethnography can contribute to disrupt the boundaries that might separate ecological and political dynamics by focusing on how nature and water are practiced in different, but overlapping ways in Colca Valley.

Researchers, activists, and politicians all over the world agree that situations like this one necessitates urgent ecological and political action. What is not necessarily agreed upon, however, are which entities this action should relate to, and which outcomes it could lead to? Ultimately, this divergence is about what kind of world – or worlds – we live in.

For additional information on glacier retreat in the Peruvian Andes, please read this story on solid waste management and this story on tourism.

This guest post was written by Astrid B. Stensrud, a postdoctoral research fellow at the University of Oslo’s Department of Social Anthropology. If you’d like to write a guest post for GlacierHub, contact us at glacierhub@gmail.com or @glacierhub on Twitter. 

Photo Friday: Around Ausangate

About 100 kilometers southeast of Cuzco sits the majestic Ausangate mountain, which is surrounded by herds of alpaca and communities of llama herders. The mountain was considered a deity by the Incans and today backpackers enjoy the Ausengate circuit, a hike that circles the mountain in five or six days. Here is a selection of photos from along the route, courtesy of Flickr users Rick McCharles, Tim Farley, Josh, Indrik myneur, and Aaron Korr.

Photo Friday highlights photo essays and collections from areas with glaciers. If you have photos you’d like to share, let us know in the comments, by Twitter @glacierhub or email us at glacierhub@gmail.com.

[slideshow_deploy id=’1091′]

Icelandic Zombie Glacier Survives by Shedding Dead Bits

Falljökull glacier. Photo: © Matt Malone
Falljökull glacier. Photo: © Matt Malone

It’s alive! British scientists recently discovered that a glacier named Falljökull in Iceland, considered dead, is in fact partially “alive.” Using 3D imaging of the interior and surface of the glacier, they found that its long top section, which extends in a steep ice fall from the ice cap Öraefajökull to a plateau below, has at least temporarily saved itself by severing ties with a lower stagnant, dead piece. It brings to mind that lone hiker pinned under a rock who hacked off his arm a few years ago to escape certain demise in the wild.

Perched as it is between dead and undead, Falljökull has earned the nickname zombie glacier in the popular press. But it’s not clear whether this unusual glacier behavior of sloughing off dead ice–behavior that had never before been reported–will keep this patient alive over the long run. Today, the glacier’s active, or living, length is about 700 meters shorter than it was five years ago.

“It would be nice to think that the behaviour we have described at Falljökull could represent a type of ‘survival mechanism’ whereby steep mountain (Alpine) glaciers can quickly adapt to warming summer temperatures and decreasing snow fall during the winter months,” wrote Emrys Phillips, British Geological Survey research scientist and lead-author of the paper, in an email. But its survival ultimately depends on whether it remains “attached” to the Öraefajökull ice cap, its source, he said. And predicting how the glacier will behave in the future is tricky.

Consider snow and ice, and you may conjure barren, unforgiving landscapes that don’t sustain much life. But most glaciers are in some sense “alive,” an idea first proposed by legendary naturalist John Muir in the late 1800s. This means that the vast sheets, bulging tongues and glittering blue crowns of ice that constitute a glacier are mobile. They flow and advance in ice-rivers and ice-falls in winter and retreat in summer, according to seasonal patterns in snowfall and melt and given the pull of gravity that results when giant hunks of packed and frozen H2O are pitched at an alpine angle.

Of course, many glaciers are melting faster than they can accumulate new ice from snowfall, wind-blown snow, avalanches and frozen rain in the winter—mostly attributed to rising temperatures and increasing soot and dust in the atmosphere around the globe. This means the seasonal balance between advancing and retreating is thrown off, which can result in such a severe decline in glacier mass that the glacier is declared “dead.” A dead glacier stops moving and simply melts in place, like a giant ice cube in an empty glass on a hot day in summer.

The fault line where the living and dead pieces of the Falljökull glacier meet. "You can see the highly crevassed ice fall which feeds ice to Falljökull and then below that a ‘bulge’ in the glacier surface which is fractured and pocked marked by hollows – this area represents the living active part of the glacier. The thrust faults which are formed as the ice moves forward can be seen in the lower part of the glacier (the curved fractures cutting across the ice)," says British Geological Survey scientist Emrys Phillips. Photo Credit: British Geological Survey.
The fault line where the living and dead pieces of the Falljökull glacier meet. “You can see the highly crevassed ice fall which feeds ice to Falljökull and then below that a ‘bulge’ in the glacier surface which is fractured and pocked marked by hollows – this area represents the living active part of the glacier. The thrust faults which are formed as the ice moves forward can be seen in the lower part of the glacier (the curved fractures cutting across the ice),” says British Geological Survey scientist Emrys Phillips.
Photo Credit: British Geological Survey.

At Falljökull, the team of scientists, who published their research in the AGU Journal of Geogphysical Research in October, found that a new ice front has formed between living and dead pieces of the Falljökull glacier, with the living section actually surging up over the dead section into a bulge at a giant fault line. The scientists note that retreat of the original ice front has accelerated since 2007 and is moving at a faster rate than in any 5-year period since annual measurements began in 1932. Meanwhile, the upper part of Falljökull is still flowing forward at between 164 to 230 feet per year.

“Although the margin of Falljökull has ceased moving and is now undergoing stagnation, field and photographic evidences clearly show that the icefall remains active, feeding ice from the accumulation zone on Öraefajökull to the lower reaches of the glacier,” the scientists write in the paper. “To accommodate this continued forward motion, the upper section of the glacier below the icefall is undergoing intense deformation (folding and thrusting) and, as a result, is being thrust over the lower, immobile section of Falljökull.”

The group expects Falljökull is not the only glacier behaving in this manner, but finding out for sure will require more research. “As far as we know, this is the first time that this type of structural adjustment in active glacier length has been reported, so we cannot be certain that other mountain glaciers respond in the same way as Falljökull,” wrote Phillips. “But that said, from informal comments made by colleagues working in North America, Svalbard and elsewhere in Iceland, plus reading the published literature, we think that it is possible that a number of other Alpine-type glaciers are potentially behaving in a similar way.” In particular, they expect it may be found in places such as the Himalayas, Andes, Alps and Cascades.

The team of scientists was able to detect this zombie glacier behavior using Ground Penetrating Radar to map the ice’s internal structure; terrestrial Laser scanning (LiDAR) to create a 3D model of the surface of the glacier and surrounding landforms; four Global Navigation Satellite System stations on the glacier’s surface to record its velocity, and digital mapping and measuring of the glaciers surface structures, such as fractures, crevasses and faults.

 

Andrew Finlayson setting up the ground penetrating radar. Photo Credit: British Geological Survey.
Andrew Finlayson setting up the ground penetrating radar. Photo Credit: British Geological Survey.

Glacier stories you may have missed – 9/01/14

https://www.flickr.com/photos/deetrak/623892195/in/photolist-4NnZMD-X8BpZ-4No18x-4NscsS-4NsdVY-4Ns6F9-4Ns6UQ-4No1hB-coFR8N-4NnZz2-4NsdJy-4No1Z2-4No1pM-4NsbWA-nQwDaf-4NseeS-4Ns8TL-4NnZRa-4Nsebw-4No11Z-4NnZTF-4NnWf8-4NnZVM-4Nsco9-4Ns8FE-4Ns9zy-4NnXMp-4NnTqv-4Nsbrs-6UDcYD-4NnZnP-4Ns8hY-4Ns8Aw-9FfF4k-4No2LT-4NnZKr-4Nse6L-4NnVf4-4No2yt-4Ns4UG-4NnWx2-4NnXrR-4NnZ2a-4Nsetm-4GwqEt-4NnYkM-4NsaS9-4Ns9Mu-4Nsai9-4NnWyD
Pemba (2nd from left) and his brothers fresh from a carry to Camp 3 (at 23,500 feet) and back to Everest Base Camp in 2003. A conference to reform the mountain guide industry has just finished following an April 2014 avalanche that killed 16 Sherpa guides. (Didrik Johnck/Flickr)

Climate Change adaptation and disaster risk reduction

“As the frequency of disasters is increasing, and more people and properties are at risk, it is time to exploit the natural resource in a way that we can contribute to reduce the global warming. Effective disaster management measures should be taken, and mass awareness, institutional mainstreaming, and integration of DRR into development are to be ensured at all level. ”

 

Read more here.

Adaptation to the Impact of Rapid Glacier Retreat in the Tropical Andes

 

“The development objective Adaptation to the Impact of Rapid Glacier Retreat in the Tropical Andes Project for Andean Countries is to contribute to strengthening the resilience of local ecosystems and economies to the impacts of glacier retreat in the Tropical Andes, through the implementation of specific pilot adaptation activities that illustrate the costs and benefits of adaptation.”

 

Read more here.

 

Preliminary outputs of Mountaineering Worker’s Workshop

 

“Following the tragic loss of 16 Nepali mountaineering workers during the Mt. Everest avalanche on 18 April 2014, there has been a clear need for reflection and reform in Nepal’s mountaineering industry.”

 

Read more here.

If a glacier melts on a mountain, does anyone hear it?

In June 2014 the two of us—an anthropologist and an experimental musician, both from Peru– visited Quelccaya, a large glacier high in the Andes. We wanted to record the sounds of its ice as it melted. This trip formed part of our ongoing collaborative project. We are interested establishing new approaches to questions of climate change. The field recordings that we have included in this post present a sonic narration of our encounter with this glacier. They were made with a variety of low- and hi-fi digital and analog recording devices.

Our recordings begin by presenting the soundscape of the back of an open-top cargo truck moving through the Andean landscape. These sounds were recorded during our trip, many hours long, on dusty dirt roads to the community of Phinaya about 80 miles from the city of Cusco.

[slideshow_deploy id=’731′]

Once in Phinaya, we continued to the southwest section of the glacier, where a large, unnamed lake has recently formed. In 2004, this lake burst its banks, creating a flood that affected several families of indigenous herders, along with their animals. We recorded the sounds of a small and the largest tributary streams that flows into this lake. They both offer overlapping sonic forms as they wind their way through gaps between rocks and frozen soil, reverberating with the glacier and rock walls.

We continued on to a small upper stream, where drops of water fell from an icicle and splashed onto a rock. And then we paused to make a sonic image recording right next to one of the biggest faces of the glacier, seeking to capture the way that it absorbs the sounds of a small stream running next to it.


Up on the glacier, we explored a number of ice caves. We experimented with an omnidirectional microphone inside an ice cave five meters wide. We were struck with the dull sound of the water dripping from the top of the cave onto the floor and running both inside and outside the ice cave. We placed a low-fi Dictaphone inside a small ice cave, only 50 cm wide, which created a distortion effect. We used an omnidirectional microphone to a stream running inside the glacier.

As we continued, we found more sounds to record and more ways to experiment with our equipment. We placed an analogue hydrophone under the surface of a small stream, and captured the sounds of tiny rocks that this moving water displaced. And we were able as well to capture the interaction between massive ice blocks with minute ice crystals that fell from the surface of the glacier.

We plan to return to this astonishing soundscape that emerges as climate change drives glacier retreat. Next time, however, we want to bring more equipment and involve people from Phinaya interested in making their own recordings of the glacier. We also look forward to developing ties with other people who are exploring such soundscapes around the world, in the hope that the voice of the glaciers will stimulate an alternative sensorial approach to climate change; namely, one which is not dominated by visuality.

This guest post was written by Gustavo Valdivia and Tomás Tello. If you’d like to write a guest post for GlacierHub, contact us at glacierhub@gmail.com or @glacierhub on Twitter. 

Photo Friday: Life as a Chilean cowboy in the Andes

Photographer Peter Haden traveled to Chile in 2007 and shot a photo essay of Leo, a huaso who lives in the Andes. For more photos, visit Haden’s Flickr page.

Photo Friday highlights photo essays and collections from areas with glaciers. If you have photos you’d like to share, let us know in the comments, by Twitter @glacierhub or email us at glacierhub@gmail.com.

[slideshow_deploy id=’644′]