NOTE: The photos in this post are stereoscopic and can be viewed in 3D by crossing one’s eyes to merge the two photos together into a central 3D image. For more information on stereoscopic photography follow this link.
Photos often flatten the landscape and shrink the majestic. The other night after the sun had set and was starting to rise again in the northwest, I looked to the east and saw a very large and round silver-golden moon rising in a pink sky above a purple cloud. The moment was fleeting as the purple wisps of the cloud soon knit a curtain for the moon to hide behind. While the moon could still be seen, I sat in awe and shrugged off the urge to grab my phone to take a picture. Some beauty cannot be captured.
Though I often do try.
A trip through the West Fjords, I exhausted myself taking photos. What is this urge to capture and collect?
Mountains and sky, snow and ice, birds and sheep, moss and…
It is all very beautiful: Looking far and wide across the fjords or close to the etchings of lichen on a rock. My senses are together braiding my experience, reaching out all around me to take it in.
Bird song, gurgling water, wind, the smell of snow…
A photo will never fully capture any of this. But it is a trigger to remember these sensations; a doorway through which to someway return.
