There were two instances in Teriberka, when I felt incredibly small. Tiny even. I think overall the weather was quite gentle on us in comparison to what it could be. But there were times when we were faced with the true force and magnificence of nature.
I already told you about the day when we went into the field in hopes of being lucky enough to see the Northern Lights again. And we got blessed both: the Aurora and the Milky Way. Both flowing one into another.
The other time was when we had one of the days of our trip dedicated to a “short” hike to the sea shore. Well, there was nothing short about it, only the day time we had to explore.
It started relatively easy, the weather was nice at first — meaning there was no wind. So we made our way through vast fields of snow towards where the Barents Sea starts. It was about 30 minutes into our journey when the weather started picking up. I guess, maybe because we weren’t too far away from the sea, the wind and snow gained more force. Now simply walking was already a quest itself.
Every step was a mystery. Because the land wasn’t even, you couldn’t really see where you were stepping your foot on — it could easily fall through the snow any second and you wouldn’t be ready for it. We tried to follow the holes the person before us left, but it wasn’t always easy when the wind was trying to knock you out. One or two times my leg got stuck in the snow and did have a couple of not so graceful falls, but oh well. In a way, there was definitely something charming about the whole experience: I felt like a wanderer from an adventure book who’s trying to complete a quest, that would eventually be not about the prise, but learning about the values of hard-work, friendship, honour and kindness. At least those are the types of books I grew up reading. And there I was, walking through the snow surrounded by snow like a little hobbit from the Shire.
After walking like that through the snow hills for an hour or so, climbing over frozen stones while holding onto strong branches of alder bushes (it is very surprising how some plants are able to withstand such extreme conditions!), we finally reached our destination. Just beyond the hills, an incredible view of the raging waves of the North Sea began to open up in front of us.
I have always wanted to see what it would look and feel like. As a kid and even as and adult I have been to the “warmer” seas in the south, the ones that look unimaginably blue and clear, where you can see the bottom of it with all the little creatures living in it. I have been to ones that have definitely suffered at the hands of humanity and look like River Spirit from Hayao Miyazaki’s “Spirited Away” before it took the extra-super-special bath at Yubaba’s. But I have never been to the “north” North, and I always wondered what the sea or the ocean there would feel like.
Have you ever seen any of the paintings of Ivan Aivazovsky? The main subject of his paintings is usually the sea or the ocean and I think, if you get a chance to see his paintings at a museum, you’ll understand why he’s so incredible and also happens to be one of my favourite painters. Well, the first thought I had when I saw the view over the hill was that it felt like I was looking at one of his paintings, or rather — I fell into one. It felt so chaotic — the power of the element, yet I couldn’t look away. I was captivated and felt a very strong sense of calmness and peace.
I tried to get closer, as close as I could, but the closer I got the stronger became the wind. Trying to balance on my two feet while also trying not to destroy my camera by accident was a challenge. I think I definitely smacked it against some rocks a couple of time. At one point the wind got so strong, it knocked me out and I couldn’t get up for good 10 minutes — mostly because I found that situation hilarious and couldn’t stop laughing. Fortunately no one got hurt and I got some amazing shots, I think.
I wanted to stay there a bit longer, to feel the waves come and go, hit the rocks, slowly return to the horizon. But it was getting late and we had to make it home safely while there was still some light. On our way back we walked across a frozen lake. It was another dream of mine! It felt a bit scary, especially when we would hear the echoing sounds of the water underneath the ice moving and making it crack in complete silence. It was safe, the lake was frozen very deep. But the sounds felt like they came form a mysterious creature within the earth.
We were getting closer to where our journey started. During this entire hike I was the last one tagging along as I would make tons of stops to either take pictures or a breath. One of the last stops gifted me this shot — tiny glimmering sparkles in the distance, surrounded by the silence of the nature. Life, that is shining despite any hardships, embracing the good and the bad and seeing beauty within its surroundings and itself.