What do you do if you get lost in an Icelandic forest? Stand up.

Norway looks like home. Oslo was all wet and pines and coffee.

I flew into Bodø expecting to catch a bus and ferry home.
However, I was greeted by the blonde and beaming Jonas and Erik, at the airport.
They drove me home over bright fjords and ship swallowing eddies, through mountain tunnels and dark pines.

It was dark out but we caught a glimpse of the wide, blood red, horizon in the distance. 

We are above the arctic circle. There are moose and tall trees and nettles.

We got into the base around eleven in the evening. I was the last student to arrive.

Tegan (Canada), Ann J (Taiwan) and I all share a room.

It's clean and warm and bright and looks out over the islands.

Roomies visit the store.

There are 11 students in the DTS. With ages ranging from 18-40

We have one student from Sweden, Denmark, Canada, Taiwan and the rest are from Norway. 

I'm the only American. 

Although, the only other American on base is also from Bellingham! It's a small, small world.

Nordtun Base

The first day we had worship and a brief instruction on campstoves.

Campstoves? Oh, yes!

 Because the next morning we were off on a four day ice-climbing and backpacking trip to Svartisen

Fjord

Backpack, Backpack

Ferry to Svartisen

Biking to base camp

If I'm being honest. The first day was nightmarish. 

Ice climbing. Pouring rain. Heavy fog. Norwegian instructions.

Also, there is nothing quite as humbling as falling down on your butt half a dozen times in front of a bunch of strangers.

Back at camp, I was in charge of food.
Unfortunately, I couldn't read the instructions (Norwegian, again).
I sat around confusedly, trying to ask for the translation and convert measurements into the metric system.

Then the sky cleared up.
Lovely.

The second day of climbing started off just as frustrating as the first day. 

...but that was before I discovered that I had been using my ice axe in my RIGHT hand. 

I'm left-handed

...yes (and blonde)

After that illuminating discovery, it was dreamy.
I loved climbing.

That night we met up with the other half of the group who had been backpacking up on the mountain for the first two days.
We ate a massive dinner.

Salmon noodle dinner

My leader, Oystein, glanced around the surrounding spruce forest and asked if I'd like to learn how to chop down a tree.
Ummm, yes!

"Perhaps, this is the biggest herb you have been picking?"

Then he built a huge fire, on dry moss, on public land.
You can do that in Norway.

(You can also camp anywhere, even in someone's yard, as long as you're more than 150 meters from their house)

The next morning we hiked up to Tåkeheimen and the sun came out to join us.

It was more of a scramble than a hike. 4km and 1454meters up a very slick mountain. 

The trails aren't often named or clearly marked, here.

 It's so wild and rugged.

The best part was discovering that there are mountain blueberries growing here as well. 

Also, I found LINGONBERRIES IN THE WILD! 

I love living in Scandinavia.

Blueberries

Bringing the heat.

We arrived at our mountaintop cabin way ahead of schedule so we took off,
 up the path, over the glacier, above the clouds, to the peak, Hegelandsbukken!

Oh. Glory.

I hiked back down with Olga (Netherlands) and we shared our journeys and excitement in the golden hour. 

She is a kindred spirit for sure.

Rachael Knudson on Vimeo.

We cooked all the rest of our food back at the cabin.
Sausages. Macaroni. Tomato soup. Turkey burgers.

 It was so hygge.
Just like Thanksgiving.

Tåkeheimen

"We have a never ending supply of sausages in Nordtun.
They grow in the freezer."

Koselig

Sunset.

Moonrise.

I'm continually being reminded that good does not mean comfortable or safe.

 Papa is continuing to meet me in the unknowns and the uncomfortable.

 I'm so thankful to be here.

Rest and Sunday

(Here is a backwards post. I promise to have last week's arrival/backpacking trip post up before Friday)

Sometimes in the early morning I feel like Papa is mischievously perched on the edge of my bed, like an anticipant two-year old.
Get up! LET'S GO!!!

window view

I shared Josh Garrels with Tegan. Waking up. Listening to "Flood Waters". Journaling.

Like most Scandinavian countries, there is a wide selection of bread and spreads for ranging from fish and liver to nutella and brown cheese, for breakfast. We eat open face sandwiches twice a day.

However, this morning, being as it was Sunday, we had homemade kefir and scrambled eggs. Treat! Also, I ate the last of the wild blueberry harvest with my muesli.

I ran from the base to the Meløy ferry after breakfast. Glittering fjords. White sheep in dark pines. Sun on the mountains.

Here are some videos for your viewing pleasure (thank you ipod!)

There are hardly foothills here. Only jagged mountains rising straight up out of the sea.

Afternoon sunlit piano playing and tea drinking in the living room.

Olga and I drove over to the island to pick up this week's speaker from the ferry landing.
I'm slowly getting my bearings. The scenery is pretty glorious.

The base from across the water

Waiting for the ferry

The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering around the base and poking into tide pools.

I had been struggling with stillness since I came here. Today was a good exercise in being so.

Happy, sunny, restful, Sunday!

Blessings of Early Summer

This week has been full of delicious adventures and dinners. 

Thursday

Kicked off my first day of summer with popsicles for breakfast. I then went hiking five miles to Raptor Ridge with Becky and her sweet dog, Sophie (we have matching merle Great Danes, so fun) It was great to finally get out in the woods with her again. We've both been bogged down with school and haven't visited in a long time.

Late Spring in Washington is a dream.

I met up with a newly-returned-from-China, Elizabeth Russell. We biked down Chuckanut to where Josh was house sitting for the week. He hosted a fantastic BBQ at which many dear friends were present. It was a great excuse to finally make these.

Grilled apricots with chevre, tarragon, and basil.
Drizzled in honey, orange sauce. Mmm.

Unfortunately the apricots were a little under ripe, but they tasted fine after we drenched them in the honey syrup. We had a really good time. 

Friday
I had a really slow, restful morning in the kitchen and listened to Tim Keller. http://sermons2.redeemer.com/sermons/struggle-love

Roasted carrots. Grilled asparagus. Baked chicken. Pine. Fresh breeze. Sunshine. 

Truth. 

Cleared the fridge and found an abundance of red peppers. My favorite soup to make is a super creamy red pepper and potato soup for the winter. However, it was so warm and gusty outside today I felt like trying something lighter for summer days. 

Tossed this together for breakfast.

Fresh Pepper Soup

3 Red peppers

1 Yellow onion

1 Roma tomato

1/2 Poblano pepper

3 Cloves garlic (minced)

2 Tbs olive oil

1 Tsp sea salt

Dash of cayenne

4 leaves fresh basil

Sauté chopped veggies in olive oil till the onions are clear and tender. Stir in garlic and cover veggies with just enough water to be fully submerged (you want this soup THICK) Don’t over cook. Blend soup when fully heated. Garnish with fresh basil. I like to add a lot more cayenne, too. 

Oh. It was so good. I *may* have eaten the entire pot. 

Fuzzy head. Happy morning face.

I went for a long walk downtown in sun and talked to my sister Grace on the phone. She quit her job on Monday and just found a new one when I had called.
"I've been having the most perfect days!"
"Oh, Grace! Me too! We are so loved!"


I've been thinking a lot recently about excess and blessings. Sometimes I just feel really spoiled. I have a beautiful home, a fun and great paying job outdoors, friends who are truly authentic and loving, a closet full of pretty clothes, a fridge full of healthy food, a huge and wonderful family, time and resources for adventures, a supportive church community, mountains at my doorstep...whoa.


I think the difference between being spoiled and blessed is knowing that we are completely undeserving of the gifts Papa lavishes on us. When we lose our awe and appreciation of all that He's given us and come to expect those things, we become spoiled. I am certainly aware of how good He is to me. I'm so thankful to be the creature of such a ridiculously extravagant God.

Rediscovered

I was on a run the other day and found some wild edibles. This happens a lot. I start out with great intentions of getting a kick-butt cardio workout only to end up slowly meandering in my sweaty running clothes with arms full of plantain or Herb Roberts.

Or in this case, Chickweed.

I found it growing abundantly in someone's yard. I pilfered... umm... kindly eradicated it, then took it home and fed it to my lovely friends in a salad.

I tastes like mustard and is bursting with vitamins and minerals. It's a winner.

Chickweed

I’ve been glancing longingly at racks of vegetable starts and mourning the fact that I don’t have a garden in my life at present. It would be entirely irresponsible and ridiculous to start one since I won’t even be here for the harvest. It aches a little to see people carrying trays of their newly acquired squash plants at the farmer's market.

I try not to look envious.

This time last year I was right in the middle of my herbalist apprenticeship and working on the farm everyday with my hands in the dirt. It's such a strange thing not to be consumed with the cultivating and harvesting process this year. It just seems so lazy.

However, it's good to be reminded of this part of myself. Winter tends to make me feel soggy. When Spring rolls around this wonderful part of myself comes alive again. I remember that I’m the girl who loves and knows the plants.

And it’s comforting to remind myself that although I have the skills and passion for things doesn’t mean I’m obligated to apply them. I’m trying to work this into other areas of my life. Everything has it’s season. Someday there will be a season for such things as brandywine tomatoes and fireplaces and enough counter space and big black dogs and a barefooted man. 

But presently, I’m blessed to be in the season of dreadlocks and storage units and sleeping bags and “pilfered” weed salads.