Getting off the van and onto the uneven ground of the Sólheimajökull base camp, we were ushered towards a group of guides stood by some picnic tables piled with equipment. With a helmet on my head, and an ice axe and crampons in hand and after a safety briefing, our group followed our guides along a path, navigating the volcanic landscape alongside the ever growing meltwater lake.

The walk from the car park to the point where the glacier started took around 10 minutes, and then it was on with the crampons before taking my first tentative steps on the glacier’s ice. Various tour companies in Iceland contribute to the maintenance of hiking paths on the glaciers, cutting steps in the ice to allow the initial hike from the outwash plains to the surface of the glacier. Walking on the glacier requires taking steps with intent so that the spikes of the crampons can dig into the ice to afford some grip. As I bring my foot hard to the ice, there is a tactile feeling of the spikes penetrating into the ice accompanied by an audible crunch of the ice giving way to the points of the cramping spikes. I was slightly disappointed that the steps were carved so well, as with the crampons, I never actually got a chance to use the ice axe.

The real effort of the hike is really spent getting from the level of the outwash plain to the surface of the glacier, but once on the surface, the hike becomes a bit easier. The effort spent getting on top of the glacier is well-rewarded by the magnificent view when looking back down-valley. I spent seven years in secondary school studying geography learning all about truncated spurs, hanging valleys, meltwater lakes – I could identify them on diagrams, tell you how they were formed, but to actually see them in the flesh was quite another experience.

Despite the sheer scale and size of the Sólheimajökull glacier, it is a glacier that is in retreat. Since the 1990s, the glacier has been rapidly retreating, estimated to be retreating around 60 metres, and losing 10 to 20 metres in thickness per year. Official measurements from the Iceland Geological Society show Sólheimajökull retreated even more than that in 2018, retreating around 200 metres that year. Helgi Björnsson, glaciologist at the University of Iceland, estimates that all but the ice caps on the tallest peaks will have vanished in around 150 to 200 years if the current rate of retreat continues.

The melting arctic ice and the glaciers of Iceland and Greenland, adding fresh water to the Atlantic Ocean, is considered by scientists to be contributing to the weakening of the Gulf Stream ocean current (now known as the Atlantic meridional overturning circulation, “AMOC”). The AMOC, very simplified, brings heat from the Caribbean to the UK and western Europe. A weakening AMOC could “imply more extreme and intense winter weather events in Europe“. In an article from 2023, The Guardian indicated that the slowdown and collapse of the AMOC would “severely disrupting the rains that billions of people depend on for food in India, South America and west Africa. It would increase storms and drop temperatures in Europe, and lead to a rising sea level on the eastern coast of North America. It would also further endanger the Amazon rainforest and Antarctic ice sheets.“

Whilst climate change throughout the Earth’s history has been cyclical, an factor which many people fall upon when suggesting that we do not need to worry about global warming or humanity’s contribution to climate change, I do wonder how humanity would fare if we were plunged into another ice age. What would the food security be like if vast areas of the Earth were no longer fit for agriculture? What about sources of drinking water if many water sources were to become frozen? Or what if temperatures soared the other way and water sources evaporated?

An article last week reported that the snowfall in Al-Jawf, Saudi Arabia, was recorded for the first time in history. The UK’s Meteorological Office pointed out in an article that there has been a gradual rising trend in the amount of loss events as a result of extreme weather. Whilst the Met Office point out that the cause of loss events for any given year can be affected by a variety of human factors as well as natural variability of weather patterns, “there is evidence that the frequency of some types of extremes have changed – particularly warm temperature extremes and heavy rainfall events. There has also been a decrease in cold extremes“.

This trip to Sólheimajökull spiralled into a reflective reminder of how closely intertwined our natural world is with the broader challenges of climate change. Standing on a glacier that is visibly retreating year by year was both awe-inspiring and sobering. It is easy to marvel at the beauty of the landscape while forgetting that these changes are harbingers of a world in flux.

The thought of losing such natural wonders – and the systems they support – makes me ponder what, if anything, can and should be done. Whether through small personal choices or broader advocacy for systemic change, how much time remains for humanity to mitigate the worst effects of climate change? As I stepped off the glacier and onto the volcanic ground once more, I could not help but feel that this shrinking ice serves as both a window into Earth’s past and a warning for its future.