Southward bound.

When autumn arrives, it’s time for me to go to my favourite place down south to work at the farm I look at as my second home for the holidays. I just wish my own farm was located closer, so I could go there more often.

Back home the leaves had barely started changing colours in some places, but the higher up I came in the mountains the prettier it was. I had to stop several places during the 8 hour drive just to admire the landscape and take photos.



I have to pass three mountains to get to the farm, each just as beautiful as ever.
My new pickup truck took me safe through the snow and the ice on Valdresflya, and I am glad I chose that road despite the conditions.
The smell of crisp air and the strong, icy wind made the view somewhat more powerful, feeling the forces of nature tear at my hair and clothes. I just wish that could show in the photos too..

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A squall coming in over Gjendesheim, Valdresflya.

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On trips like this one, I am really in love with my country. The mountains, the lakes and the wild, untamed nature..

Weekend trip to the west coast.

A few weeks ago we spent a weekend at our summer house on a tiny island just off the west coast. My mum, who grew up there, had already been there a couple of weeks, and we helped her clearing away trees and shrubs from what once was a garden/small potato field. The weather wasn’t great, but it was a nice weekend anyway.

The flat island on the left was our destination.

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One of the days we went for a walk along one of the beaches where we used to go swimming when I was little. It was rainy and very windy, but surprisingly everyone tagged along when I insisted on going on a walk despite the weather. I thought it was nice to be out, very refreshing with the salty ocean wind in my face and the roar of the Atlantic ocean in my ears.

In weather like this, you really fell alive..

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Sunday turned out to be the best day weather-wise of course, only too typical when we had to spend it all in the car on our way home.


Schindler’s List.

It has been about ten years since the first time I watched Schindler’s List in class, and although it made a big impression on me at the time, I haven’t seen the whole movie again before this evening.

I didn’t remember the whole story, but a few things stuck with me. The girl in the red coat (of course), the mother and child that faced separation so many times but managed to stay together, the boy hiding in the latrine, the hot day when Schindler talked the SS-soldiers into using the water hose on the train carriages.

The main reason for watching this movie again was as a “preparation” to our upcoming project in the windband. We’re having another movie and musical themed series of concerts in March, as a follow-up to our huge success in 2015. We will be playing the theme from Schindler’s List, as shared below with a solo violinist.
My goal is to try to watch most of the movies/musicals we’ll play songs from, just because I would like to know the stories, the mood and setting where the song or theme is used and the story behind the lyrics if there are any. It makes performing the themes even more special.

Earlier today, this theme was “just” a beautiful piece of music. Now, it means so much more after seeing it in the setting it was written for. And the movie is so heartbreaking, terrifying and then emotional at the same time, something which I can clearly feel when listening to the theme now, and I can’t wait till we get it together and will start practising with the soloist.

Now I’m going to listen to the rest of the wonderful soundtrack. John Williams never disappoints ❤

Morning fog.

“Heavy fog is a weird guide; if you go on a journey with him, it takes you from nowhere and leaves you at nowhere.”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

When I got out of bed this morning, the world outside was gone. All covered up in a thick layer of white fog. I brought my camera out with me when I went out to do the morning rounds to the animals.

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“I really love fog. It hides you from the world and the world from you. You feel that everything has changed, and nothing is what it seemed to be. No one can find or touch you any more.”
– Eugene O’Neill, Long Day’s Journey Into Night

A midnight visit..

As we were driving through the northern parts of Norway on our holiday, we happened to pass by Alstahaug church in Nordland just around midnight. As we meant to drive a bit further before finding a place for the night, we just as well had a walk around the old stone church, build in the 1100’s in the middle of the night.


Although not being a very religious person, I have always found old churches very interesting and intriguing. I guess it’s because of their long history, everything they’ve seen and everything that has happened on their premises.

The church at Alstahaug was, as mentioned built in the 1100’s, and made famous in Norway by being the workplace and place of death of the well known priest, poet and folklore topic Petter Dass (1647-1707).

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This was a lovely time of the day to be wandering around the churchyard. So peaceful and quiet, no one there but the two of us. Oh, and a very friendly cat we encountered, who gladly stopped for cuddles.

I always have a slightly eerie feeling walking around churchyards though, and it certainly wasn’t better being in the middle of the night!
Just thinking about all those long-forgotten memories, thoughts and stories buried in the ground beneath my feet, many of them maybe never told. All the lives that once were, who were they and how did they live? What happened to them?

And more specifically; what happened to the three young sisters that lies in front of the church who all died within a week, the eldest barely eleven years old?


What a tragedy for the poor family.
I am very easily moved when wandering like this, sometimes with a big lump in my throat. Does anyone still remember the people who died decades ago, remember their features and how they were? And all the people who died centuries ago, who’s become just a name on a stone..

These are the thoughts that wander through my head as I walk among the tombstones, curious as always, and a little bit sad. Daily life in the past has always interested me, and sometimes I actually envy those names on the stones because they got to live it, to know how it was to live a hundred, or maybe two hundred years ago. Weird, I know.


The northern parts of Norway are very bright at this time of year, due to the very famous midnight sun.
We didn’t go far enough to see the sun itself during the night though, but the sky remained bright nonetheless. More like a never ending sunset..