The Shark's Fin
It was almost 3 am when we reached Volandstinden. The midnight sun was in full force, but a shroud of clouds was covering the whole mountain. My dad and I couldn’t even see where the trail was supposed to start so we decided to take a stroll and then we went for a drive.
It was the first time when we were so far in the southwest of the Flakstadøy island. We crossed the Kubbholmleia bridge into Moskenesøya and I felt disappointed. For the first time I had given up on a hike. I knew that pursuing it would mean getting home at 6 in the morning and a sleepless night, but part of me was not content. We turned the car around. Upon our return we saw the peak rising from the clouds, like a fin breaking through the sea surface. The 457 m tall mountain gave the landscape a mythical appearance and disappointment gave way to joy and wonder.
It was almost 3 am when we reached Volandstinden. The midnight sun was in full force, but a shroud of clouds was covering the whole mountain. My dad and I couldn’t even see where the trail was supposed to start so we decided to take a stroll and then we went for a drive.
It was the first time when we were so far in the southwest of the Flakstadøy island. We crossed the Kubbholmleia bridge into Moskenesøya and I felt disappointed. For the first time I had given up on a hike. I knew that pursuing it would mean getting home at 6 in the morning and a sleepless night, but part of me was not content. We turned the car around. Upon our return we saw the peak rising from the clouds, like a fin breaking through the sea surface. The 457 m tall mountain gave the landscape a mythical appearance and disappointment gave way to joy and wonder.
It was almost 3 am when we reached Volandstinden. The midnight sun was in full force, but a shroud of clouds was covering the whole mountain. My dad and I couldn’t even see where the trail was supposed to start so we decided to take a stroll and then we went for a drive.
It was the first time when we were so far in the southwest of the Flakstadøy island. We crossed the Kubbholmleia bridge into Moskenesøya and I felt disappointed. For the first time I had given up on a hike. I knew that pursuing it would mean getting home at 6 in the morning and a sleepless night, but part of me was not content. We turned the car around. Upon our return we saw the peak rising from the clouds, like a fin breaking through the sea surface. The 457 m tall mountain gave the landscape a mythical appearance and disappointment gave way to joy and wonder.
Part of my Lofoten: Arctic Flyway exhibition through which I am donating 25% of the proceeds to BirdLife Norway, a wildlife organisation dedicated to the conservation of birds in the archipelago. Lofoten is particularly important as a nesting ground because it facilitates easy access to food and very few natural predators, which makes the islands ideal to raise chicks. BirdLife works with different seabirds and migratory species that are affected by tourism, farming and climate change in order to preserve their numbers. They educate locals and visitors on best practices, wildlife behaviour and on finding solutions as a community.
Printed at dStudio, a multi-award winning, carbon neutral, fine art print studio, on Canson Infinity Platine Fibre Rag 310gsm museum quality paper, finished with a bespoke handmade oak veneer frame and paired with a signed ArtSure certificate of authenticity.