The Romantic Facade of Solitude

To describe Greenland as beautiful is an understatement as epic and vast as the surrounding landscape. Massive icebergs jut out of the ocean reaching skyward. Glaciers and fjords battle for dominance in a fight that can be felt miles away. It’s hard to imagine that a place with such beauty could hide such sadness. As a visitor, it’s easy to get caught up in the romantic facade of solitude, but under the surface is a larger issue that beauty cannot fix.

NPR did a really interesting article about arctic suicides that can be found here. If you have some time, it’s worth a read, and it will give you a better idea of the issues that face Inuit villages throughout the north.

The Gentle Water

A few years ago, before I headed out on my adventure around Croatia, I spent a morning wandering around Geneva. It was early, and the city had yet to wake up. I drove a few miles over to Lac Léman, a large lake that dominates the surrounding landscape. Street lights were starting to flutter off while the hum of the city steadily rose. I walked along a pier, listening as the waves lapped steadily against concrete below me. Across the lake on the opposite side stood a small lighthouse. A couple fishermen stood beside it, casting their lines out into the gentle water. It was so quiet, occasionally, conversation would float over on the wind. I didn’t understand them, but It gave me an interesting perspective on their early morning adventure.

As I stood there, enjoying myself, I noticed a sailboat silently sliding through the water, gliding in between us, heading out toward the center of the lake. I closed my eyes, picturing what their view would be. Looking both ways, a lighthouse with a few fishermen on one side, and on the other, a lone figure, enjoying a quiet morning, standing on the end of a pier in the middle of a waking city.