PREHISTORIC NORWAY / Volume two | Arctic Visions

It is dawn of a new day, in Norway. The winter glacial dark makes room to the brilliant white of his desert of snow. I’m answering to the call of the Nature.
I am at the end of the world, where the coordinates become a point and every latitude is a conquest. I smell the traces of time, that seems to be stopped. Prehistory is here and now.
Where all started. Golden lights of the morning show the desolate face of an ancient and inhospitable land. Wind shear draw in the air magical visions. I close the eyes and I feel the breath of the Earth.
Water dyes of fiery colours of the sky and breaks against the rocks that live in the sea, lonely and imperious. Everything comes to life. Dawn colours join those of the sunset: the day advances.
The horizon is a thin line which underpins all this beauty. An hour in an instant: it is the past that becomes immortal. The form of the light beats the flow of time. Every trail is a path, every fjord a landing place.
The freezing water of the sea gets lost in the darkest depths impenetrable from view.
A dance of colours that pervades every corner of the sky is reflected on a thick surface of ice. It is the moonrise, that indicates the way.
The shadows of the night take me there where all started.
It is the primitive force of the northern lights.
Under this sky full of stars the human presence become mute, forgotten from the remained elements unchanged over the centuries.
This is where my time travel starts.

Chiudi