In Skalanes

A walk through snow capped mountains with wind in our faces. Circling roads which upon turning reveal more of the landscape.

The first sip of coffee and freshly baked buns. Heat under toes. Book Club. A talk from a wizard and an insight into ancient rituals connecting us to the earth and the elements and with our bodies. Watching a labrador gallop home through a blanket of white. He followed us to the cliffs edge. Standing on the black rocks and watching the waves crashing underneath. A hint of yellow moss peppers the rocks. The sea a golden blue, frothing at the seams. Creamy brown and white like the head of a cappuccino. Around our heads and over the mountains fly flocks of birds. Their noise and chatter a calm chaos. We are in the bird cave. We can hear the waves. Hold us close to the earth and clutch us to the sky.

Can we simply lay this sight to memory? Walk towards the house made of red. Landscape of white and blue and grey and brown on white and white and white. Glimmer of light.