It’s Summer now and I find myself thinking of white, fluffy meadows and the Winter sun. Last year on Boxing Day, Moose took me into the white wilderness – to the top of a lonely mountain on the edge of the Finnmark Plateau. There were no tracks, no fences, just us and nature. We had to trudge through thigh deep snow until we reached some moss to walk on. When walking in snow and you don’t know how deep it is Norwegians know to walk on the vegetation as that is a good indication of where hard land is underneath.
For most of the way we had to climb up on our hands and knees so we wouldn’t fall too deep into the snow. As the mountain started to level, more and more reindeer droppings appeared. This is another good indicator of a safe passage – when in doubt, follow the animal droppings!
On top we had a 360 degree view. The lake was frozen and the air was crisp. We had just made it for sunrise… well, if you can call it that. At this time of year, so high up in the Northern hemisphere the sun never quite makes it over the horizon. This is the land of Winter darkness. However, even though we don’t get to see the sun for two months, its effect reminds us that it is still there. The sun’s light always manages to inspire for an hour or so, making everything yellow, pink, orange then red.
The rising light.
We did not have to wait long for the colours in the sky to change. We could see them turn into each other within minutes. At times like this you realise how fast life moves… and all before ‘middag’.
Moose and I just stood and watched. We didn’t want to lose this moment to words. I’m bewildered as to why this land has been overlooked by the storytellers – I’m sure one day it will be the setting for the greatest romance ever told.
The falling light.
The way down the mountain took a long time. I couldn’t help but stop and look at the fading light behind us. The moment was just gone too soon for me but Moose was pressing us to get back to the car. You see, once the light is gone the coldness creeps in (plus I think he was eager for Boxing Day dinner).
To make things quicker I needed to step in Moose’s steps to get through the snow. You’d think that it would make it easier for me too but… they say it’s hard to walk in someone else’s shoes, but have you ever tried walking in someone else’s snow prints? I felt like Gimli treading inside an ‘oliphants’ steps.