The weather is just too beautiful to be true. I am so used to dreary weather at the holidays. Again there’s no wind and it’s crisp and cold and the snow is thick. In the morning I take a walk, making my rounds along the coast to check out both harbors and see if there is any activity.
Sometimes I watch the fisherman prepare their boats or the container ships arriving with heavy loads. But today it’s only the ravens at play. They sit atop the ship masts squawking hello and telling me that it’s going to be a fine day.
By the time Angela and I head out with our sleds, there’s not a cloud in the sky. At its peak, the sun is just below the rim of the mountaintops. Maybe if I want it badly enough I can will the sun to peek over the rim, just for a minute. But I’m sure many have tried that before me, especially in the years past when hunger and sickness marked the dark winter days. And we will be immersed in the shadows for several weeks yet to come. This is the darkest time of the arctic winter.
Today there’s a group of kayakers enjoying the fjord’s still waters, but I’m content with my sled, and the conditions are perfect today with the thick soft snow padding each tumble. When our legs can take no more, we head home, exhausted and happy. A crescent moon dangles over the snowy mountain peaks and the fiery orange of sunset illuminates the valley.
Later in the evening, Klara and I watch an older movie on DVD called Nói Albinói, which was filmed here in the Westfjords. The wind picks up, it’s a strong southerly wind and that means a change in weather is on the way.