“Nowhere is the drama of dark and light played out more starkly than in the north”
George Mackay Brown
Days 5 and 6: There was a pattern to the days – while the light lasted, standing on the ice and snow encrusted upper deck, we watched the majestic waters and mountains of the Norwegian coast unfold like an IMAX movie; Slartibartfast’s finest work.
The sun never rose from behind the mountains but cowered beneath the visible horizon spreading a pink/blue glow which would begin to fade almost as soon as it arrived.
Approaching the next port, the streetlights would be on and the quays lit by an orange glow. Once off ship, a walk around the town would be in snow covered, near night such that all our memories have a dream-like quality. I am left with nothing but a deep desire to return. It is the equivalent of my impractical but intense desire to live in the wilds of Scotland’s northwest; the Germans have a word for it – sehnsucht.
The images were taken in and around Honningsvåg. In the freezing temperatures the decks were quiet much of the time except at night when the northern lights put on a show. The swimming pool was always quiet – I was never tempted!
This is a collage of my grandfather’s Royal Flying Corps memorabilia. As outlined in previous posts, Fred was stationed at the RFC Training School, Aboukir, Egypt from 1915 to 1918. In this photograph he is dressed in a desert uniform for a postcard which is inscribed: “Best love to all [at] home”. This is surrounded by two of his RFC badges, his stripes, his 1919 release papers from Fovant and some basic anti-personnel devices which were simply thrown over the side of the aircraft cockpit:
There were some requests from an earlier post to see more of the copying stand. The PZO UR 9711 is still resident on the dining room table only this time the mounted camera is connected by wifi to an iPad such that I can see the picture, focus and fire the shutter remotely (rather than climb on the wobbly pew to look through the viewfinder 🙂 ). All a bit over-engineered for the task but the real benefits of the wifi connection will arise when the camera is mounted on a six metre pole – it removes the need for guesswork:
I ventured further yesterday – the sun came out so I made it to the bottom of the drive. These photos were taken with a six metre pole and a remote control shutter. Unfortunately I have yet to acquire a camera with a wireless Live View connection so it is a bit like fishing – you cast your pole, fire the shutter and you only see what’s on the end of the line when you retrieve the hook/camera. It resembles fishing in other ways too e.g. not something to be attempted near high voltage overhead cables nor when there is lightning in the air.
The local council have done a good job at keeping the roads clear but this is only part of our problem. It is wonderful to have open views from the house but when it snows with a north east wind there is the potential for the entire contents of the field to be deposited in our drive. The extremes have not occurred on this occasion but it will still be some time before we can get my wife’s car out – mine, with its ‘very sensible’ rear wheel drive and ultra-wide low profile tyres is probably stuck there until August.
This is my 100th post – oddly addictive for something which I only started out of curiosity.