Frosty Winter

Wrapped in the sparkling embrace of the deep subarctic winter, one cannot be but wonder-struck when contemplating the spectacle of the Northern Lights dancing like angels across the heavens. It is Pakkastalvi, the darkest period of the year. Suddenly the sky explodes in a firestorm, a dazzling pyrotechnic display of a kind few people ever witness, and we stand there, small beings awed into silence by this majestic miracle of Nature. The beauty can be frightening. And like the Sami, the nomadic people in this far away part of Scandinavia called Lapland, we seek security in fellowship

At Fjällnäs, we have just celebrated the New Year, and the lamps are lit around the clock to ward off the enveloping mantle of darkness. The guided tours in the mountains are short and intense during the few hours the icy daylight hangs over the mountain peaks. And as the dusk deepens into night, the sledge dogs howl at the rising moon in eager anticipation of the coming excursions of the morrow.

The glittering snowdrifts reflect the flickering gleam of the light installation in the little chapel. As the last bathers leave the sauna, the diners in the restaurant are enjoying fresh salmon trout, caught early that very morning through holes drilled in the thick ice of Lake Malmagen.

It is silent, almost eerie, when the winter lays its soft blanket over Fjällnäs in Pakkastalvi.