Your alarm begins to jingle at 5 AM. The up-beat melody is offensive for having woken you up from comfortable slumber. You reluctantly turn over and shut it off, questioning if it was entirely necessary to set it that early (to be honest, you were probably just a bit too excited). You peer out the window of your small cabin room: it is still dark outside. Making a quick decision, you close your eyes and turn over for another precious hour of sleep.
6 AM hits and you hear the familiar jingle of your alarm again. In a sort of fog, you roll out of bed into the cramped three-bunk cabin room, stumbling to put on your clothing, still stuck in your post-sleep stuper.
You climb two flights of stairs and make it to the deck’s door. You tie your scarf tighter around your face and ears: it traps the warmth of your breath and keeps your face warm.
As you push open the door to the deck, a blast of cold air slams onto your body: this is especially unpleasant to your body that was once cozy under the covers of your bed. Although the bitter Nordic cold bites at your skin, it instantly wakes you up and refreshes you out of your groggy morning haze.
You squint: the sun hasn’t been out for days and beams brightly into your eyes.
Your eyes begin to adjust: you begin to see the water; its ripples and white foam. The black figures in the distance begin to materialize. The once fuzzy images begin to form a crisp edge: you are looking at the majestic Norwegian fijords. Your eyes, almost adjusted, begin to depict a sunrise with deep oranges and yellows.
The colors of the sunrise look as warm as the sun’s rays feel against your vitamin D deprived skin. Your body feels the subtle heat of the sun which has hidden from you for so long: it’s familiar comfort seems to block the cold, making the bitter air and stinging winds tolerable.
You are captivated in the presence of a sunrise that words can provide no justice to: it’s beauty is unique and unlike any you have seen before.
You slide your fingers out of the protection of your gloves and the bitter air attacks them. Grasping your camera, your fingers sting in the cold winds, but the discomfort is worth the price for your photos.
You walk towards the back of the boat. Running your hand along the guard rail, you feel a gritty sensation as dried-saltwater from the water’s spray rubs onto your gloves, leaving their black threads dusted with a faint white salt.
You approach the back of the boat and gaze into the distance. You lean against the guard rail: looking down you see the wake from the ship’s propellers.
The sound of churning deep blue and green water fills your ears and sends smells of saltwater upward into the air, mixing with the fresh air of the Norwegian Fijords. You inhale deeply: it feels rejuvenating to breathe the pure air into your lungs.
You look around you: you see tall pine trees, rugged earth, and small homes perched on the cliffs.
You wonder what it must be like to live on the rocky bluffs, isolated, and how it must feel to wake up to such a beautiful sunrise every day. You wonder that if it were you who lived here, would you eventually become unimpressed by it? (The answer is of course NO.)
Longingly gazing out into the expanding waters of the Fijords, you relax as the ship steadily cruises to Oslo’s port.
In this moment, your happiness becomes infinite.
Until next time,