I find myself missing “my” mountains and fjords several times a week. Luckily I have the opportunity to go down memory lane through my thousands of images from the area that I still call home. It’s weird isn’t it, that where we call home is where we grew up, even though we have settled as grown ups somewhere else?
I wanted to share an image of a mountain that always gives me a feeling of being on my way back home. I like that feeling. It’s a feeling of belonging somewhere, of knowing something so well that you claim some kind of ownership to it. At the same time this mountain is so dramatic and raw that it reminds me of how small we are. It reminds me that we are only here to visit, and that we always have to do that on natures terms. We do not ever conquer a mountain. The mountain lets us visit, and that’s something I find so humbling. I love the feeling of being thankful whenever I get to visit one of “my” mountains.