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When I was a child, I remember the snow banks being higher than our car, up to several meters. This is not the case today. For 38 years I have spent my holidays in Hardangervidda (the largest mountain plateau of its kind in Europe) and even though the snow banks are lower, I still get excited when I look at the moon-like landscape and feel the raw unpredictable power of nature.
Four years ago I started snow kiting, a sport I love, but is known to be dangerous. When I am attached to the kite and at the mercy of the wind I am left feeling vulnerable and I fear losing control. At the same time the rush I get when I manage to master the ride is a feeling like none other.
I scream with happiness when we work together but I have a huge respect for which one of us wins when it blows up a storm – because I have felt the exhaustion when I have been caught in a headwind and the liberation when I have been carried forward by a downwind.
As a photographer I have hunted these dragon-like kites on mountain plateaus the way one searches for dolphins at sea, as I know they are out there somewhere. When they appear on the horizon, the white desolate ice fills with life and merges into a colourful dance with nature. I have endured frozen fingers waiting patiently with my camera to capture these poetic moments, that only the weather and its winds can stage.