India, Nov. 6 -- The Sermitsiaq Glacier rose before us, a wall of turquoise so towering it seemed impossible outside of dreams. Donning mud boots and life jackets, I learnt the 'sailor's grip' to steady myself as I stepped into the rocking Zodiac. I felt clumsy yet profoundly alive. Out on the fjord, the glacier dwarfed everything around it, shifting from turquoise to indigo, etched with the scars of stone and time. I raised my camera, smiled into the cold, and tried to trap the moment in a frame.

I was in Greenland, the world's largest island, remote and otherworldly. More than 80 per cent of its land lies buried beneath ice, and barely 57,000 people call it home. My husband and I had arrived by chartered plane from Copenhagen, descendi...