Quite a bit of snow had fallen overnight, as we discovered when we went out for a walk on our first morning in Abisko National Park. It wasn’t a surprise; the place was 250 Kms inside the polar circle. We had our warm layers on, and good boots, so we were comfortable enough, even though it was 15 below zero. Although I’d worn only the thinnest of gloves, so that I could handle my cameras, I could stick my hands in my pockets if I felt cold. It was a great walk.
As I walked on the fresh powder snow, the squeak under my boots sounded familiar. Slowly memories of these sensations began to come back to me: the soft sound of the snow compacting under your feet, the warmth spreading through me as I walked, the feel of the crisp air. I’d walked in cold before, and I’d enjoyed it. Later, The Family told me that she also recovered old memories of such walks. What was new to me was the sight of a frozen river below us. I liked this sight: the blue of the ice, the white of snow, the dark rocks and the birches, the pillowy softness of fresh snow and the specular smoothness of the ice.
A little further on, the path turned and we could look back at the waterfall we’d crossed, frozen in mid-cascade. Under it we could hear the water gushing, muffled under the covering layer of ice. It was the only sound in the quiet landscape. I recalled now how quiet snowy landscapes are: no bird calls, no voices, no sound except of water and air. We were fortunate with the weather, there was no cold wind blowing into our eyes and noses. At these low temperatures a walk is often more pleasant than it would be with the temperature around freezing, when there can be rain or sleet.
It was time to pause a while and look at the little details. At the bottom of the waterfall I could now see a little gap in the ice, that’s where the sound of water was coming from. I zoomed in to take a photo of the icy stalactites in this lowest layer of the frozen waterfall. That’s the featured photo. Closer at hand was the snow caught in the branches of birch trees. In the old days of film I’d tried to take photos of the texture of this snow, but never managed to control the exposure well enough. It turned out to be easier now; the lenses, sensors and software have got better.
We walked on, past a monumental plastic folly whose purpose was to tell us that we were inside Abisko national park. It was incongruous enough that I felt like taking a photo. The Family said “At least it can be removed easily if they change their mind about it. Better than leaving a concrete menhir there.” That’s true, I guess. We stepped up on a boardwalk to nowhere.
Far away one could see the big lake, Torneträsk, frozen through at this time of the year. As someone would tell us later, while lighting a bonfire on its frozen surface, “You can drive a tank across it”. But right in front of us was a field of soft snow, hiding the trail. I could see the bridge by which we would have to cross over the river again, and the trail was visible on the far side. Now, it was time to put my camera in my backpack, and change into a better pair of gloves, just in case. The remainder was a short walk though, and we would soon be back in the hotel for a coffee and a cinnamon bun.
Don't hold your breath 
