The Image of the South in the Heart of the North

Today is a wonderful day Wednesday, a day of walks, and in my summer schedule in the north it is a day of sea walks. If it's autumn, we'll take a walk in the mountains, if it's winter, we'll take a walk in the woods. But summer is the time of the sea. It would be sacrilege not to spend as much time with sea as possible, even if in my case it is not refreshing gentle waters, with a gentle rustle, but rough steel water that freezes your fingers and rumbles on the rocks. Although, I know one place where I can fantasize about tropical beaches...

Perhaps from a distance it looks like the entrance to the lair of a sea monster, a little sinister and uncouth. But you'll like it when we get closer. You can get there by the shore, but I really like the majestic rocks, the size of which can only be estimated from the water. It's always nice to see your native places from a different angle.

And as always, the most inaccessible rocks along the coast are already occupied by the eternal companions of any sailor. Restless birds rightfully feel like full-fledged owners here. And I can hardly restrain myself not to forget about the ultimate goal and not take pictures of swarms of these ordinary and amazing birds again.

Oh, as we can see, I still couldn't control myself. I even know why I photograph the same birds in about the same places all the time. Because they are the epicenter of the noise of life in such places. The only ones who can shout over the noise of harsh waves and the howl of the polar wind and remind the whole world that life is boiling here. It's great.

But sometimes thoughts creep into my head that someone was here before us. Something happened before, not what we know and what we are used to now.

Because these rocks look like the ruins of ancient, huge fortresses that were erected here by someone grandiose. Maybe the seagulls only settled on the remains of the great fortresses, the owners of which disappeared into eternity, or went to sea. Or these monoliths came to us from other dimensions and merged with the landscape over millions of years, but if you get close to them from another side, you can discern as if traces of man-made intervention

But let's return from fantasy to reality, and envy those lucky people who can spend their earthly hours on such beautiful ships in polar waters. It breathes the romance of bygone centuries

And it causes me not so much envy, as it again spurs the imagination, which easily imagines that a completely different time is overboard, and humanity has not yet lost the spirit of adventurism, preparing the first expeditions to the North Pole.

And dreaming of the past, I quietly pass the coastal reefs and find myself in a completely different world. Welcome to the northern wild beach.

Oh, yes, our icy water sometimes pleases us with the color of azure. Deceptively lures you to take a dip... but no, tricky northern water, it's too cold today.

As always, the variability of the landscape is striking. A different world is really waiting for you at every turn. From the azure bay surrounded by rocks you get to the beach where the trolls are resting.

I don't know why I mentioned trolls, the first fleeting association when I was here for the first time. I have not found any suitable analogies than the vivid image of Earth elementals from Scandinavian neighbors.

But going back to the beginning of the article, I came here to show you something not so large-scale and epic. Quite the contrary, I just wanted to once again brag about how diverse the world is in this rough land right under my feet.

Along the coast, in stone grottoes, small coves, temporary backwaters for a riot of colors, akin to a coral reef. As always, they play on the contrast of the monotony of the surrounding landscape and its scale. I will not try to compose poems for the sake of these pieces of algae.

I just admit that looking at them, I can even that I'm somewhere on the south coast, under the gentle evening sun, and the warm wind sings to me the songs of summer... northerners sometimes also want warmth...