Beneath the still waters of the Lyngen Alps lie submerged timbers evoking the roots of Yggdrasil, anchored in the lake's cold gloom while the world above burns in its final gold before the snows.
The Arctic autumn bleeds into the amber birch forest like an offering to the coming winter. From the depths, those weathered boughs carve a path toward the realms of rock and ice towering over the shore—frost giants biding their time across the crags, held in a fragile truce where cold and time stand suspended.
No comments yet