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Nordland

In Search of the Midnight Sun

North of the Arctic Circle, archipelagos of steep granite isles pierce the frigid Norwegian Sea. Carved by the Ice Age, the land up there remains a rocky canvas for the moody elements. Summer storms sweep through and settle over the skerries, transforming the landscape into a rain-washed world of blues and greys. Snow covered peaks rise as ragged sails over the aquavescant harbours far below. Their true mountainous forms remaining hidden, shaded by wet veils of cloud and rain. At this time of year, the sun shines eternal. Between the downpours and cloudy intermissions, it wastes little time, casting its illuminating beams over everything. It renders every clear view and vista precious as within moments they disappear - powdered over by the returning clouds, leaving little except faint memories and imagination.

 
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 Rorbu

Beneath the heavy clouds and sharp granite peaks, alongside the icy aqua waters of the Norwegian sea, sit quiet clusters of rorbuer. Punctuating the fjords and harbours, these burgundy fishing cottages appear as glowing beacons, promising warmth, respite and shelter from the moody arctic climes.

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Suddenly a mist fell from my eyes and I knew the way I had to take.”

— Edvard Grieg
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Regn

The rain up here is as much a part of the scenery as the fjord, constantly battering the granite faces of the mountains and muddling the sea. The summer sun may shine forever, but you would scarcely know it, as the world is continuously washed over by a transient palette of nimbus blues and greys. 

 
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Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye... it also includes the inner pictures of the soul.”
— Edvard Munch
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Øyrike

Awakened by the arrival of the sun, the snow bitten moss and lichen stir and slowly transform into luxuriant greens. As their icy blanket dissolves, drip by drip, the meltwater trickles down into the lakes and fjords below. Ebbing and flowing with the tides, the aquamarine waters reflect the change of seasons upon these Arctic archipelagos.

 

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I’ve always wanted to be able to paint the dawn.”
— David Hockney
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SØLVFÔR

Silver lined clouds hang over the trampled tundra trails, auspiciously beckoning you upwards over yet another rocky summit. Eventually the sun will break through but for this moment, that glistening edge remains a reminder that there is a brighter side to everything just waiting to be found.

 

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