The Cold Nights of June

It was cold in the beginning. Barely above freezing, the ceaseless daylight nevertheless drew us into the landscape, wandering the eerie, quiet world along the seashore. Wild orchids bloomed; eagles circled around in the air. We walked through the mountains; we walked by the sea.

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One night, in the spirit of the legendary “HOLY HELL” photoshoot of January 2013, we decided to break out our best summer style for more glamour shots in the idyllic, flowering landscape.

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Tor Edvin found a rusty old bicycle from the 50s, and donned the hat his dad had worn when his parents met for the first time. 

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A little stern, perhaps, but no better way to celebrate my recently acquired rifle skills, and our impending fishing success.

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Oh my god, this flag! It could fill up a house! It HAS filled up a house! 

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Seriously, though. I nearly lifted off in the wind!

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Too idyllic to handle!

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Keep in mind, this was in the middle of the night. Oh, how we laughed! 

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Hey Norway. 

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And then something surreal happened. In the presence of the sea, our hyper, tears-of-laughter giddiness came to a sudden and complete halt. The ocean swallowed it up. We sat transfixed by the vividness of it all, totally spellbound. I threw my flowers into the water.

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We sat for what felt like hours in complete silence at the seaside. Slowly, a giant codfish swam into view, winding its way around the seaweed only a few feet from where we sat. “Ah, look,” Tor Edvin said quietly, “Our new power animal.”

And so it was.

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