The flood above

The first sign of the glacier was not ice. It was its absence.

In the upper reaches of Swat, where the road narrows and the journey eventually has to continue on foot, smaller glaciers that local communities had known for years had almost disappeared. The larger masses of ice were still there, higher up and farther away, but the melt below them had already changed the landscape. Streams carried more water, protective structures showed signs of erosion, and villages sat uncomfortably close to the routes that floodwater would follow.

The Provincial Disaster Management Authority had issued an alert about glacial melting across Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. That alert took us from Bahrain towards Mankyal Valley, then to Jabba and onwards to the Seri Kat Glacier. Local residents walked with us for six to seven hours, guiding us through routes that are difficult to identify without people who know the mountain.

At Seri Kat, the smaller ice bodies around the main glacier had largely melted. The larger glacier remained intact. We then returned through the valley and headed towards Kamar Khwa, below Chukail Banda. The pattern was similar: the smaller glaciers beside it had receded sharply, while the main glacier still appeared to be holding.

That distinction matters. A large glacier remaining visibly intact can create a false sense of security. The immediate danger often develops not from the dramatic collapse of an entire glacier, but from meltwater accumulating in unstable lakes, channels becoming blocked by debris, or smaller ice formations giving way above settled valleys.

In the mountains, a great deal of destruction can begin with a change that appears modest from a distance.