We make a connection to our previous travels at Vinje, on E134 after its crossing with the Rv.9. From there we travel East. We take a few side roads through the countryside and admire the snowy landscape. We see things that are not there at all. We are melodramatic about them. We don't care. Landscape does that to us. We connect to our previous travels at Fv. 313 Bogen. And Thomas Ligotti, everywhere Ligotti. And Franz Kafka, everywhere Kafka.
Houses in the background, hidden behind bare trees.
By full moon you see tree shadows, and porch lights.
A sign speaks its short message.
The rocks invite you to see the distance.
A portal is there, waiting.
Flat snow with electricity pole.
Not here, there is calling.
Into the hills.
Dark closed houses, lit by the light of the radio mast.
To sit there, and freeze alone in silence.
Even on sunny days the light does not reach here.
Entrance to somewhere.
Darker by day than by night.
By day light before dark.
By night dark before light.
Sign says 40 + 60 = 100. A square.
A wall of trees.
Snowy rocks like waiting people.
Sparks descending from the faraway hills.
Trees dancing in the night light.
Toll house for the mountain entrance.
Signs shining.
A faraway detail contains romantic light.
From here it's a fairytale.
How does here look from there?
Two cat eyes are watching us.
Here you can sit in the shining glass house.
Here you can shit in the sinning glass house.
Light penetrates everything.
Early one winter morning during my childhood, while I was still lying in bed upstairs, watching a few snowflakes floating outside my bedroom window, I heard a voice from downstairs say these words: ‘The ice is breaking up on the river.’ This voice was like no other that was familiar to me. It was very harsh and yet very quiet at the same time, as though a heap of rusted machinery had whispered something from the shadows of an old factory. - Thomas Ligotti, Sideshow, and other stories, II. Premature communication.
You park your car here and you look through the scrawny trees down at the water.
No one pushes his way through here, certainly not someone with a message from a dead man. But you sit at your window and dream of that message when evening comes. - An Imperial Message by Franz Kafka, Translation by Ian Johnston
E134 Vinje
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=757803
Fv. 37 Raulandsfjellet
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=774337
Fv. 37 Jønjiljo
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=308574
Fv. 40 Veggli
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=1227446
Rv. 7 Østre Krødsherad
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=281232
Rv. 7 Nordtjernlia
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=1813708
Rv. 7 Rallerud
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=774316
Rv. 7 Sokna
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=281064
Rv. 35 Nakkerud
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=457921
Fv. 319 Sagbukta
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=271886
Fv. 313 Bogen
https://www.vegvesen.no/public/webkamera/kamera?id=576514
