There’s something pleasantly childish about sitting by the window on a plane traveling over a mountain range. The white ripples of the snow-covered mountains are a feast for our plane-weary eyes. As we fly closer to the coast I see the first fjords. The steep mountains drop into the velvety sea and we are left wondering “what next?”.
The plane tilts, curving towards a group of whitish dots in the ocean, our balance momentarily challenged by the disconnect of a bright sky on one side and the dark sea on the other. We descend, requiring a momentary leap of faith to accept we won’t be landing in the ocean.