Around noon I reach the spot where once thousands of reindeer swam across the Magerøyasund in Spring, on their way to the green pastures on the island. I have read that nowadays the Norwegian army takes them by boat, to prevent large numbers of animals from drowning each year. I park my car and sit for a while, trying to picture the scene that took place here for so long; the snorting, eyes big and rolling, the rumbling sound of innumerable hooves, antlers hooking into each other, the pure scent of animal instinct hanging in the air.
a picture of the sun
on every postcard
[eerder verschenen in Blithe Spirit]