Book Four - Journey of Surrender
Ålesund - the Art Nouveau city. Gateway to Geirangerfjord and home for now.
This view from Aksla was the postcard picture that I was shown in a vision back in London.
I hadn't been there, but I knew exactly where I needed to go.
This view from Aksla was the postcard picture that I was shown in a vision back in London.
I hadn't been there, but I knew exactly where I needed to go.
Ålesund, viewed from across the fjord - Aksla is to the right with Fjellstua, the restaurant lookout on top
The Sunnmøre Alps
Muldalsfossen - Tafjord
Geirangerfjord, the Seven Sisters, and the abandoned farm, Knivsflå - viewed from Homlongsætra
The abandoned farm, Skageflå - 250 m above the Geirangerfjord The Barn The ghost who photographs A double exposure taken the traditional way - two exposures on the same frame. I'm sitting by a convenient campfire on the edge of a cliff, 250 m above the Geirangerfjord - a campfire of which, by the way, I didn't light. That would have been illegal. |
Off to Lofoten
an extract from
DON'T TAKE MY ADVICE - I NEED IT
I was wrenched from the trail and swept over the side of the mountain, and not by the wind, or gravity, or any element that I could explain. I felt my physical body heaved sideways by a force of pure energy.
I was pushed.
I landed flat on my back, almost vertical, with my feet firm in a bed of soft heather covering a steep section of jagged rock. I dragged my camera pack out from under me and remained leaning against the mountainside, four hundred and fifty metres up. With the warm sunshine on my face and a soft mattress of heather beneath me, my feet remained planted against a rock to keep from sliding off the mountain. My guides had been telling me I would always land on my feet but this was taking it too far. I’d found my edge - literally.
I was pushed.
I landed flat on my back, almost vertical, with my feet firm in a bed of soft heather covering a steep section of jagged rock. I dragged my camera pack out from under me and remained leaning against the mountainside, four hundred and fifty metres up. With the warm sunshine on my face and a soft mattress of heather beneath me, my feet remained planted against a rock to keep from sliding off the mountain. My guides had been telling me I would always land on my feet but this was taking it too far. I’d found my edge - literally.
More images of Lofoten from this trip
Back on the Mainland
You think climbing trees is a must? This is how the Norwegians cross rivers when the bridge is gone.
We are heading up into the high valley gathering sheep before Autumn's first snow fall.
We are heading up into the high valley gathering sheep before Autumn's first snow fall.
an extract from
DON'T TAKE MY ADVICE - I NEED IT
A soft layer of snow highlighted the features of the bordering mountain slopes, barely visible from the low cloud engulfing them. Naked birch, stripped now of all their leaves, dominated the steep sides of the valley. Granite boulders strewn through the pasture were sporting coats of vivid-green lichen, adding a touch of vibrant contrast to the ripening autumn colours.
I stood at the edge of a stream fed by a cascading waterfall a little further up the valley. It flowed past quickly, twisting and tumbling its way down to the fjord miles below. One solitary birch stood before me with a gift. She was still holding tight to her golden leaves, smiling with all her beauty.
I had arrived, and tears flowed freely. From where and what for I didn’t know, but the tree and I were connected. Smiling was not something I could see of the tree, it was something I could feel. She had presence. She had been waiting, and I had arrived.
In that moment the sun broke through, just a little. Light encircled the tree, the stream, and me. The rest of the valley remained as it had been, only we stood together bathed in a radiant glow of golden sunshine. The tree spoke, though not in words. The shiver of raw emotion I’d felt only moments before, I now knew the meaning.
It wasn’t that I had arrived – I had returned.
Three years had passed since I had gazed into the picture of Geirangerfjord and felt my soul leave my body to connect with the very land I now stood on. That day in Broome I couldn’t have imagined living among the mountains within that picture, let alone embracing the magic of what lay within them.
There had been other feelings of homecoming since that experience, though not like this one. This was raw, stripped naked as the trees on the mountainside. There was great power behind the emotion that had filled me to the point of tears.
I had stood in this very spot before, in another form, another lifetime – one that my soul had known. There had been emotion, tears, and now I understood. I was grateful for it all. I’d been guided back to a powerful land that was still home in my heart and that gave me joy. It was a quiet joy – one that I savoured internally.
I loved this land.
I stood at the edge of a stream fed by a cascading waterfall a little further up the valley. It flowed past quickly, twisting and tumbling its way down to the fjord miles below. One solitary birch stood before me with a gift. She was still holding tight to her golden leaves, smiling with all her beauty.
I had arrived, and tears flowed freely. From where and what for I didn’t know, but the tree and I were connected. Smiling was not something I could see of the tree, it was something I could feel. She had presence. She had been waiting, and I had arrived.
In that moment the sun broke through, just a little. Light encircled the tree, the stream, and me. The rest of the valley remained as it had been, only we stood together bathed in a radiant glow of golden sunshine. The tree spoke, though not in words. The shiver of raw emotion I’d felt only moments before, I now knew the meaning.
It wasn’t that I had arrived – I had returned.
Three years had passed since I had gazed into the picture of Geirangerfjord and felt my soul leave my body to connect with the very land I now stood on. That day in Broome I couldn’t have imagined living among the mountains within that picture, let alone embracing the magic of what lay within them.
There had been other feelings of homecoming since that experience, though not like this one. This was raw, stripped naked as the trees on the mountainside. There was great power behind the emotion that had filled me to the point of tears.
I had stood in this very spot before, in another form, another lifetime – one that my soul had known. There had been emotion, tears, and now I understood. I was grateful for it all. I’d been guided back to a powerful land that was still home in my heart and that gave me joy. It was a quiet joy – one that I savoured internally.
I loved this land.
The three islands that make up Ålesund, seen from Sukkertoppen
Trollstigen - This image is a double exposure. The first was taken during last light of the evening. The second, overlaying the first, was a long exposure of three journeys by a car, up and down, for the head and tail lights to etch a trail of white and red light into the photograph to highlight the winding road.
Lovatnet
Here is the cliff that I slid my friend's car into after hitting black ice. He didn't mind me hitting the cliff - his side was a lot wilder. This is very close to the scene of Norway's most tragic avalanche. Not once, but twice sections of the same mountain had broken away and fallen into the lake, Lovatnet, killing many and destroying whole communities. The higher of the two tidal waves had been recorded at sixty metres. |
Kjenndalsbreen
The island, Godøya - viewed from Sukkertoppen, Ålesund
The night air was crisp, clear, and lit by a full moon. Frozen metal handrails offered little assistance to negotiate the treacherous ice-covered path. Deadly as it was, the footpath sparkled in a display of brilliant natural wonder. Strong moonlight danced across the icy surface, tiptoeing at random upon a lace of intricate diamond patterns, one step ahead of mine.
|
Within moments of walking along the top ridge of Aksla I saw two long shooting stars explode in separate performances. Meteors continued to zip past, burn up, and then explode for my pleasure. Nice happy meteors they were, finishing their journeys right there for me. Meteor showers aside, winter was getting to me. It’d crept in one icy tip-toe at a time and then suddenly – as if from nowhere – I was depressed. Most people became introverted with the lack of light but I’d been fighting it and, perhaps, losing. |
Taken from Aksla during the meteor shower - across the fjord is Langevåg and the Sunnmøre Alps beyond
New Year's Eve
I'm off to Lofoten to chill . . .
The Northern Lights - Aurora Borealis
Solo trek to Munkebu
The mountain cabin - Munkebu
The lakes, Tennesvatnet (front), Krokvatnet (above to the left), and the highest mountain in the region, Hermannsdalstinden 1029 m (centre)
Caught in a blizzard - this was my only short opening to capture an image, then back to hail
Two days after Christmas, while celebrating my own day, the Guru called to wish me happy birthday - I think.
“Happy birthday, y’old bastard. Were you awake yet?”
“Sort of - the telephone woke me.”
“Stop your bitching. It was time to get up for a leak anyway. What’s your plan for the big day? Gunna paint the town red or what?”
“Gary, the town’s mostly painted red already. I’m in Norway. I don’t have a plan other than to visit a mate later for a few beers and eat some tørrfisk.”
“Is that it; dried fish on your birthday? Geez, Kev, you really know how to live it up, Mate. You’ve been living in Norway too long. It’s time you came home.”
“Happy birthday, y’old bastard. Were you awake yet?”
“Sort of - the telephone woke me.”
“Stop your bitching. It was time to get up for a leak anyway. What’s your plan for the big day? Gunna paint the town red or what?”
“Gary, the town’s mostly painted red already. I’m in Norway. I don’t have a plan other than to visit a mate later for a few beers and eat some tørrfisk.”
“Is that it; dried fish on your birthday? Geez, Kev, you really know how to live it up, Mate. You’ve been living in Norway too long. It’s time you came home.”
The evening sun is about crash into Lofotveggen (The Lofoten Wall) and create a farewell sunset scene. These images were captured on board the Hurtigruten, M.S.Finnmarken.
The Queen Mary 2 in Geirangerfjord on her maiden voyage to Norway
Rebecca - rejoicing Autumn's fall in Boulder, Colorado
With three years away, my Bus had been missing me. An engine transplant, a new coat of paint, and with joy in our hearts we again had motion. Our time together though, was almost up. It was someone else's turn to turn her key.
My Bus, resurrected, and for sale - Happy Days!