Husafjell

Of course, the distant snow got the better of our curiosity and we drove to the hills today. It was perfect: blue sky, sunshine, hardly a breeze. We parked near a farm and followed the way-marked path (marked with flashes of red paint) up across the fields, past a reedy, frozen lake and into a small valley where sheep bells clattered. Husafjell proved an easy conquest even for our six year old, but the views from the top were spectacular. In one direction, high, snow-clad mountains of the interior. In the other direction: hills, lakes and distant islands of the North Sea. As we descended, late afternoon sunlight caused the dry grasses of the summit to blaze like orange fire.