Quartet

No glacier calving terminus, no horizon – we are enveloped in fog over a matte green sea and on grey rocks. Right behind the sound of a four-stroke outboard motor, a boat materializes through the fog, cutting a delta through the thick water. It navigates as an aircraft on instrument flight might: its pilot looking intently at a small window of light through which the Global Positioning Satellites feed insight and clarity. A second boat joins. We jump in. We leave. Greenland is behind us but still around us – invisible. We race across the leaden waters, past ghostly icebergs, sending wake waves into each other’s path.
Quartet-5
The Sun pierces a luminous round hole in our grey world. The fog rises a corner. Rocky shores fly by. We look back and the dissolving fog festoons glorious peaks. Greenland is saying goodbye in style. It doesn’t matter where I point the…

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