Way Of The Fjord

There is a mystery hidden in the depth of the fjord. It’s a place for adventure but also for a real quietness no other place can even come close to. It can be brutally cold, and then the next minute the first light of the day comes through over the snow-capped mountains and turns the scene into something beautiful and rare. The wind got real bite to it and carve lines into the skin, only to die down the next minute and let the quietness comes through.

You will miss this by only watching from a far, taking a photo then moving on. You could maybe see it but you can’t really feel it. The old weathered wood of the lonely cabins here, the smell of salt and old seaweed, the feeling of numb lips and vertigo while swimming in the almost bottomless fjord, when reaching for the towel won’t do anything for the shivering limbs.

I want to feel all of that and more.

I need to explore it even though it’s my own backyard.

I need no mountains to climb, and have no desire to be the first man to a remote location.

The fjords are my Everest.

Hjørundfjord is my first accent.

I am who I want to be here.

It’s the way of the fjord.