Calving Glaciers and Pro Cycling...

The glacier follows a clear definable path along the valley it created, the weight of time and gravity slowly compelling it downward. From dizzying heights to sea level, a massive beast grinding away; a monotonous hulk hiding deeply embedded secrets.

Finally reaching the sea the glacier splits. Fractures in the facade deepen irrevocably, and the face calves into the sea with a magnificent crash. As larger monolithic blocks fall away, hidden fissures are revealed and, no longer held in place by the larger blocks, smaller chunks slide away in a far-reaching and inevitable cascade. So many birds at the base of the beast take to the air squawking in alarm and panic in an attempt to avoid the debris of the wreck, the detritus thrown up and out by the crash. Great waves created by the falling giants of rock, and dirty ice and snow, roar outward in a last attempt at relevance. These gradually dissolve into mere ripples, last vestiges of a sordid past.

At the glacier's foot, and slowly drifting away, the remnants of the older dirty facade float and bob in the inevitable current; the cold sea carrying them away. Their one time relevance created awe in the eyes of passers-by. Now that relevance melts away in a sea of bitterness and disappointment. Past grandeur dissolving into lumps of icy what was.

Eventually a calm returns, the face of the glacier changed, its facade fresh - blemished perhaps, scarred by the recently calved giants, but exhibiting a raw, youthful exuberance. New hope reflecting the brightness of a new day's sun.