The island waits, resting on the periphery of my mind.
There it lies, within a fjord, searching for the horizon.
Across the water, mountains rise shoulder to shoulder.
Like the island, they watch too, gazing out, dormant under the sun.
Here is a world where night and day exist as one, where seasons shift to the wind that rules, scattering terrain and remnants of memory across the landscape.
Back to Top