A case of time travel through seasons

Endings inevitably bring memories. Nostalgia, sometimes. Maybe relief. Or regret?

Even when things aren't particularly close to one's heart there are bits of flotsam from the past that surface, even if briefly.

Not a bad thing necessarily. It's just hard to look in earnest for the beginnings that await on the other side. Much harder than to speak of them.

It isn't just the matter of the unknown. Although that plays a big part, I suspect.

--

I find myself unable to draw the straight lines of a narrative to join a series of photographs together. Not in a way that makes a story anyway. One that might make sense in, well, any sensible way :). Keeping that in mind, here goes.

There are certain images that have the capacity to completely warp the idea of seasons. Like summer in the midst of endless stretches of snow. But when that turns into spring flowers along very deep, very blue and very still water bodies, things start getting quite interesting.

There's something mesmerising in the way roads can wrap themselves around a landscape. Not big roads. Those just thrust and cut their way through. Little ones. Narrow and twisting ones. Ones where low speeds seem fast, and faster speeds feel incredible.

Clouds of mist thrown up by immeasurable amounts of water rushing over rock. Old rock. Getting slowly eroded into new shapes. The noise is terrifying in the quiet. But the views are spectacular. They tame your fear and draw you closer. Trapped in awe.

Some trips have a way of morphing from one kind of spectacular to another so rapidly and continuously that it is almost impossible to remember quite all of it :). But then that's Norway for you.

I'm glad I've chosen to stay.

Currently: settling
Listening to: Kygo - Firestone