A Beautiful Day

Day 13

I’ve been told that there is a network of nature trails just beyond the university, tucked away behind the town of Kristiansand. Thus far, I have been very pleased with my cold treks out into the downtown, my long jaunts through the local area, and my quiet nights of solitude where I sit back and read and write alone in my dorm. But yesterday, with no classes or responsibilities holding me back, and nothing but a wide open sunny day ahead, I decided that it was time to go and explore a trail. So I packed up a water bottle, threw on my backpack and headed out the door.
The walk to the trail alone takes around twenty minutes. Once I arrived to the path opening just behind the university, the city vanished and was replaced by a wintry forest almost instantly. I pressed on a little further, this time ascending up a different hill, and when I reached the top; rustic beauty. I realized that I now stood on much higher ground then my sense had perceived, and I was overlooking a lower landscape of frozen ice, protruding rocks and rich green evergreen.
In that moment, it reminded me so much of Colorado, but on steroids! Indeed, both Colorado and Norway have geological similarities because of the effects of ancient glacial erosion, yet Norway seems more “scarred” if you will, more blemished. Like the cracks in an old man’s face, the landscape changes drastically within just a few hundred meters. I can’t imagine what it will be like to see the Fjords of western Norway when the weather warms.
It is midnight right now Matty, but I composed this blog entry very quick before bed especially for you (as I read your face book message, and can totally understand your curiosity friend). However, the little triad of pictures the blog allows me to post will probably do no justice, so for your entertainment, I will leave you with this precise rendition of a moment I felt on my hike today (it was right after I took the picture to the left hand side)…
I reached a point in my hike where the trail narrowed, about an hour or so into my secluded excursion. And much to my pleasure, I soon recognized that I now stood at the source of the icy lake below, which I first saw in the lower region stretching out underneath the winding trail like a slice of the arctic. Of course, without wings or hawk eyes, it was hard for me to know exactly what was happening in this dynamic landscape. Yet two things were irrefutably certain- one, a different and higher positioned lake rested to my left. And two, an icy stream dumped from its depths and cascaded through the sleepy forest, down to the motionless lake below. It was so beautiful, the way the water moved. My ears were caressed with its quiet trickle, and my eyes marveled as I watched the cold water traverse across the ice, which unbelievably looked exactly like the water, only frozen into a sculpture of motion.
At that moment I turned to the upper lake and faced the North Sea. I closed my eyes and took a long deep breath of the cool ocean air, and pictured a man doing the same thing, standing near that very spot, but sometime 500 years ago. And then I thought about my family and friends thousands of miles away, who support me no matter what I do, no matter how far or long I travel...and I smiled...