Three days after the funeral, I finally got to Grönvik. There is a winding path over the rocks, through alder forest. It was cloudy but luckily it didn't rain, because then the rocks are like ice, dangerously slippery.

 

As it had rained for several days straight, the rocks were not completely dry, so every possible way of advance had to be used;  sometimes crawling and then I slid down the rock until I got some dry stone under my feet. Someone might say that it's crazy, why go and risk yourself in such a place.

 

It's very clear to me. I HAVE TO GET THERE. The November darkness, the roar of the sea when the swells hit the rocks, which, unmoved, just accepted everything. In this moment, everything else disappears. I disappear myself, I don't know the border where I end and nature begins.

 

This is the landscape of my soul;  this darkness and heaviness, that's why it's so powerful. Here I find presence and peace.