Marie has a long weekend off from her job as “gallerivert” (galleri|vert, gallery host) at Zahlfjøsen (Zahl|fjøsen, Zahl [a surname] cowshed). Because the sun just goes around in circles up here, we’ve decided to shift our sleep schedules. I’m typically an early riser, but this weekend I’m crawling in to bed closer to my wake-up time. Our reward? Hiking in sunsets that last for six hours.
We both grew up at about 45° N latitude, so we’re accustomed to day lengths that change with the season. During multi-week hikes in Norway I tell time by the sun and my compass, so I’m used to paying attention to the sun’s motion through the sky. My new fascination last night was watching the sunset move across the horizon.
I’ve been working on dropping a predictive mindset and instead cultivating one of wonder. Sure I expected the sun to be low in the North sky. Being ready to watch it move across a mountain chain over the fjord and revel in its journey takes, for me, a new kind of emptiness.