Under a Cold North Sky - a book of snow and ice

 

Long dark winter months, with an absence of the usual diversions.

Trying to keep busy. These have not been easy days for many. A short interlude for Christmas, and then back to very quiet times.

Covid days.

Time to make a book. Always a happy diversion.

This one was created for the Instagram #areyoubookenough challenge on the topic of frozen. The challenge was started in 2017 by the book artist Sarah Maker, and brings together book artists from all around the world.

I have many images of snow and ice, and many happy memories of trips north, so the topic of 'frozen' had instant appeal.

A dive into my hard drive seemed like a good a place to start.

I searched for 'ice' and 'snow'. Up popped many images that are long forgotten.

Images from Iceland, Greenland, Finland, Yukon and Norway.  Some of the places that I am missing the most.




Firstly, a small fragment of ice from Disko Bay. Ice that has made its way down a glacier, and then broken into fragments as it fall into the icy water of Disko Bay; an iceberg graveyard.

Greenlandic ice fragment

Crystals of watery ice from a glacier.

glacial ice formation

Broken ice from a grassy puddle. This from Lofoten, where I was attracted by the texture of the snow crushed grass.

Grassy ice puddle

There are tiny fragments, and wide views. It is the juxtaposition of scale that I enjoyed when making this book.

Lofoten mountains

Initially I  printed out many small images.
I  then experimented with different combinations and juxtapositions.
Some images were rejected, as they didn't work with the others, or were just too ambiguous.

Icy reflections from Disko Bay were tempting to include, but the water was not actually frozen, so these were rejected.

Icy water in Disko Bay

 

 

 

 

 

 

mini prints for layout experiments

 

 

For the start of the book I chose images of snow falling at night, and a lump of ice. The raw elements of icy landscapes.

I remember vividly standing under a lampost in Finland capturing snow falling in the early evening, the snow lit by the artificial light; blowing around wildly in the wind.

falling snow

glacial ice

Then I moved through gradually larger landscapes, trying to find pairings that complemented each other.

Grass and ice.

Black on white, white on black.

---

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A 'landscape' of ice crystals on snow beside a tree in a field.


The images are printed on bamboo paper 110gsm, made into a concertina. The hard cover is covered with a Lotka polka dot paper in black and white. Lotka paper is Nepalese, and is easy to fold around the cover of a book.

'Under a Cold North Sky' - concertina book

'Under a Cold North Sky' - front cover

I don't know when spontaneous travel will be possible again. My plans to return northwards in February are very likely to be thwarted.

But as soon as I am able, I will be heading in that direction once more.

 

You can see a slideshow of all the images here

Icebergs and cold turkey ..... scroll free september

SCROLL FREE SEPTEMBER

Today being the 1st of September, it was lucky that I heard about the idea to give up social media for a month on the very first day of the month in question.

Just in time to put a quick post on Facebook and Instagram giving my intention, and then to promise myself not to even open the apps for the next 30 days.

I am going to go cold turkey. A bit like dry January, but I am allowed wine. Just no social media.

scroll-free-september is an initiative by the Royal Society for Public Health. We all know the problems it causes, but convince ourselves of good reasons to continue anyway.

FOMO

I'll see what I miss, and what I gain.

If I don't post, then I wont need to check whether anyone is looking at my posts.

And what do they achieve anyway?

...... I am not sure I know the answer to that one.

I am keen to see how I spend the time that I might otherwise have used aimlessly scrolling.

I might even then have some time to share some of my images from Greenland; a place so special that I have not been able to think what to say about it.

Holding it in my head.

A place of stark contrast between land and sea, mostly covered with ice.

a house on a rock

Where homes are built on rocks, and where the ground is covered with snow for about 9 months of the year.

Where transport between villages and towns is by boat, plane or sled. There are no connecting roads.

sled

Where electricity and other utilities are supplied in pipes above the ground, due to the permafrost and rocky ground.

Where fishing and tourism are the main sources of income.

fishing boats, Ilulissat

Where the icefjord creates an ever changing environment in Disko Bay. Icebergs breaking off the glacier and heading out to Baffin Bay, small fragments eventually reaching as far as Canada.

Icefjord, Gronland

Where village life is harsh and somewhat untidy.

Ilimanaq

Ilimanaq village refuse collection

Greenlandic home

Yet all of this set against the exquisite beauty of Disko Bay, where the sun doesn't set in summer, and the night sky could be mistaken for daytime.

The low sun illuminating the ice in subtle majesty.

photographers at night, Disko Bay

Disko Bay, Greenland

Iceberg, Disko Bay

Ice flow

midnight light, greenland

blue ice

blue ice, Disko bay

red boat, Disko Bay

Just posting these images makes me realise that I wish to return. I would like to explore the coast in my own time, taking it all in. Five days is only enough to see what is there, and not enough to say anything meaningful photographically.

It is only familiarity that brings me the ability to have something to say. Time to truly immerse in an environment.

The silence and calm waters were everything that I had hoped for.

Photographs taken from a moving boat will never convey the experience adequately.

A sea that rippled like liquid mercury at 3am in the morning as we returned to harbour left everyone spellbound.

One of those moments that lives on.

Not on Instagram.

Not even on my 'proper' camera.

A special memory

In my head.

real paradise - aurora borealis and reindeer in Lapland

aurora borealis, Nellim, Finland

As previously mentioned, I prefer cold places to hot.

Something to do with the comfort of hiking boots and thermals reminding me that I am about to go on an adventure.

A long awaited trip to Finnish Lapland with friends.

Snow, wilderness, reindeer, and if we were really lucky the aurora borealis.

We were really lucky.

aurora borealis, Lapland

aurora borealis

For once I was really glad that I had taken my tripod on my trip. Camera exposures to catch stars and the northern lights are a few seconds long, and hand holding the camera is not an option. When the aurora starts 'dancing' in the sky you know you are really, really fortunate.

The days are very short at this time of year. Sunrise and sunset only four hours apart, with a lovely blue twilight that lasts for some time before and after. The sun did not emerge above the horizon during our visit, but just moved slowly around below the top of the hills.

We did a bit of ice fishing on Inari Lake. I don't think anyone really expected to catch a fish.

The best bit is drilling a hole. The ice was about 70cm thick.

The fishing rod was tiny.

Fishing had the potential to be a very cold, zen-like experience.

It is a very popular sport in the summer when the lake is swarming with mosquitos and the bears are awake in the forest.

Reindeer are plentiful. Most are in the wild until rounded up for stock taking.

Reindeer herders know their own stock from the markings cut on the reindeers' ears.

They have a book of ear markings.

reindeer with ear marking

lunch of reindeer stir fry

a reindeer passes by our picnic spot

Some facilities were a little chilly.

snowy seat

instructions best avoided

the scenery was everything that I had hoped

Lake Inari

trees in the snow

sunrise

I took many, many photos of trees, and if we hadn't been so busy fishing, snow shoeing and aurora watching I would have taken many more.

A place of peace and beauty. 

 

trees at dawn

 

life choices in the Lofoten islands - food or photography?

snow in Harstad

Other half (OH) and I are in Norway.

OH has been persuaded to join me on a photographic adventure to the arctic circle.

He normally stays at home when I go to cold, wet and rainy places. He likes his destinations hot and sweaty. I am the reverse, relishing nothing more than packing a bag full of thermal underwear, waterproof trousers and my hiking boots.

I have wanted to visit the Lofoten Isalnds in Norway for some time; ever since I saw images by David Ward from one of his tours there a few years back.

I have been harping on about going there for a year or two……… and to my delight, OH has agreed to come too. I need him to help if I get stuck in a snowdrift. The weather can be very unpredictable up here.

I have learnt a few things since we arrived.

1. I would rather be out making photos than eating.
2. OH would rather be eating than out making photos.
3. There is no shortage of spectacular scenery to make photos from.
4. THERE IS A SIGNIFICANT LACK OF FOOD AND HOT DRINKS IN THIS PART OF THE WORLD AND RATIONS MUST NOT BE ALLOWED TO RUN LOW.

Oh dear.

We started in Harstad, where it became clear that snow is everywhere, even in the town centre. This is the arctic circle, after all. Where there is a plentiful supply of sheet ice. We trod carefully.

Harsted

We made it to Vinmonopolet, to acquire liquor. 

We made it to the supermarket to get sandwiches.

We made it to the historic church. It was closed.

I could happily have taken photos of the trees, church, graveyard etc. But OH wanted to see the museum, and having dragged him all this way it hardly seemed kind to deny him his bit of history. He loves history. The older the better.

But the museum was closed.

We decided not to camp, and started our journey to destination number two.

The only sign in English in Harstad. As if…….

Time to get on the road, get to the scenery.

The scenery was snowy. The snow was piled high on the sides of the road. There was nowhere to stop and take pictures. And where the was, the view was obscured by trees.

Lunchtime.

A picnic in a lay-by. Standing on a sheet of ice.

Food on a table of snow.

lunchtime.

This is not a place for fine dining.

This is the land of fish.

Fishermen, fishing villages, fresh cod and dried cod.

Fish going all around the world.



We visited Myre and Nyksund, in Vesteralen.

A place where signs leave little room for the imagination.

The air smells of fish.

Myre

Fresh cod is shipped around the world or dried to make stockfish; unsalted dried cod.

cod drying on a wooden rack 

stockfish 

Even the music festivals revolve around cod.

Codstock poster on stockfish drying racks

Myre fishing boat heads out to sea.

Nyksund -  a deserted fishing village

This is not a place for fine dining. You can't get fish and chips, or even a cup of tea.


OH gave up and cooked us  some eggs and bacon in the microwave.

fine dining a la microwave

I stopped worrying about about food and decided to go out and do some photography.

before breakfast at Sortland

before dinner in Svolvaer

Tomorrow night I am designated chef.


I fancy toast, jam and some green vegetables.

Lofoten in winter ( after lunch)