In 1999, I found myself
in the serene landscapes of Norway, working amidst the rugged beauty of its
fjords. One evening, as I sat by the water’s edge, gazing out over the
stillness of the fjord, a profound sense of melancholy washed over me. Enigma's
Return to Innocence played softly in the background, as if it were
narrating the unspoken drama unfolding before me.
In that moment, an image
and a sensation collided—something far more profound than any golden-hour
photograph or painting could ever capture. The sun, a radiant ball of
compressed energy, began to descend, casting its golden light across the water.
It was as though the world around me slowed down, the glow of the evening sky
becoming something sacred, something eternal. As the sun kissed the fjord, the
melancholy I had felt melted away, replaced by a deep, all-encompassing peace.
For that brief moment, I
felt entirely at one with creation, as if the boundaries between me and the
world around me had dissolved, leaving only the quiet hum of life itself. It
was an experience that words can barely hold, but one that stayed with me, a
reminder of the stillness and connection we so rarely touch in our busy lives.
I have often desired to
return to that place, but alas, I never will, albeit I have returned in my quiet moments.
Return to Innocence
Image by https://unsplash.com/@megapixel_world
Life's Fleeting Moments
In 1999, I found myself in the serene landscapes of Norway, working amidst the rugged beauty of its fjords. One evening, as I sat by the water’s edge, gazing out over the stillness of the fjord, a profound sense of melancholy washed over me. Enigma's Return to Innocence played softly in the background, as if it were narrating the unspoken drama unfolding before me.
In that moment, an image and a sensation collided—something far more profound than any golden-hour photograph or painting could ever capture. The sun, a radiant ball of compressed energy, began to descend, casting its golden light across the water. It was as though the world around me slowed down, the glow of the evening sky becoming something sacred, something eternal. As the sun kissed the fjord, the melancholy I had felt melted away, replaced by a deep, all-encompassing peace.
For that brief moment, I felt entirely at one with creation, as if the boundaries between me and the world around me had dissolved, leaving only the quiet hum of life itself. It was an experience that words can barely hold, but one that stayed with me, a reminder of the stillness and connection we so rarely touch in our busy lives.
I have often desired to return to that place, but alas, I never will, albeit I have returned in my quiet moments.