Við Þráinn, María og Stefán skelltum okkur saman í sumarbústað í Bortelid í vikunni og áttum þar nokkra alveg dásamlega daga. Það var eiginlega ekki fyrr en núna sem við áttuðum okkur á því hvað það er langt síðan við höfum verið svona lengi saman – meira en bara í stuttri heimsókn eða eina nótt. Það gerði ferðina enn skemmtilegri. Við dekruðum heldur betur við okkur í mat. Á matseðlinum voru meðal annars elgsteik, nautasteik og svínakjöt með alls konar girnilegu meðlæti. Það er nefnilega eitthvað sérstakt við góðan mat, góðan félagsskap og að hafa nægan tíma til að sitja lengi við borðið, spjalla, hlæja og bara njóta augnabliksins. Við fórum líka í nokkra göngutúra og það er alveg á hreinu að ég fæ viðurkenninguna fyrir að vera besti fararstjóri ever... eða kannski ekki alveg! Það var að minnsta kosti enginn sem týndist, þannig að ég tel það vera sigur. Síðan var keppt í alls konar leikjum þar sem ég brilleraði með spegilgleraugunum... eða öllu heldur ekki. Við spiluðum Hitster og sun

Summer Journal – Day 3 For the past few days, the wind had been telling me to stay home. Today, it finally fell silent. So I took Elvis, my neighbour's wonderful dog, my Pentax K-1 and my trusty Lensbaby Sweet 50, and set off along my favourite paths. Later, I couldn't resist another little walk—this time with my Fujifilm and the very same lens. Because some days simply deserve two cameras. Along the river, I met my lovely 86-year-old neighbour. Step by step, with two walking poles, she was making her way through the morning, not because she had somewhere to be, but because she wanted to enjoy the river, the flowers and the trees. Then she smiled at me and said, "When I saw you coming, it felt like the sun came out." I don't think she realizes what a gift those words were. Every time I meet her, I somehow leave feeling twenty-seven again. A little note: The image below is an AI-assisted illustration inspired by today's walk. It isn't a documentary photograph, but an artistic interpreta

Summer Journal – Day 2 For a while now, I’ve been wanting to take my Pentax K-1 and Lensbaby Sweet 50 for a walk to photograph the wildflowers growing around my home. But the wind has had other plans. Day after day it has been blowing so hard that I’ve had to settle for photographing the flowers in my own garden instead. Today, I finally decided that enough was enough. I grabbed my camera and headed out anyway. Was it still windy? Oh yes... very windy! In fact, I'm still a little surprised that I managed to get so many images in focus. And if a few of them aren't perfectly sharp... well, that's part of the Lensbaby charm, isn't it? Sometimes a little softness tells the story even better than perfect focus. I hope you enjoy these little wild beauties as much as I enjoyed finding them. And since I'm on holiday, I have a feeling you'll be seeing a lot more flowers, grasses, tiny details, and other little wonders over the next few days. Consider yourselves warned. 🌼📷😉 My camera and I ha

Summer Journal – Day 1 When the Wind Says: "Stay in the Garden" I had every intention of going for a proper photo walk today. The wind had a different idea. So, instead of wandering through fields and forest, I spent my afternoon wandering... all the way across my own garden. It turns out you don't actually have to travel very far when nature has already moved in. Armed with my Pentax K-1 and Lensbaby Sweet 50, I discovered that my flower beds are full of tiny models patiently waiting for their close-up. Well... patiently might be the wrong word. They were dancing around in the wind the entire time. Somehow, between the gusts, I managed to catch a few quiet moments. I hope you enjoy this little collection from my not-so-exotic "garden safari." And if the Norwegian summer keeps blowing like this, my garden may become my favorite photography destination after all. 🌸📷😉 My camera and I have a wonderful relationship. It behaves beautifully. I, on the other hand, occasionally forget where

Skruppum til Önnu Fanneyjar og Eddu um síðustu helgi, fengum geggjað veður á laugardeginum en hinir dagarnir voru hvort eð er ferðadagar svo veðrið skipti minna máli þá. Kíktum aðeins í kringum okkur og urðum dolfallin af dönskum kirkjugörðum, þvílík fegurð og vel snyrt. Greinilegt að það er starfsfólk garðanna sem sér um að snyrta leiðin líka, ekki bara garðinn, því það finnst ekki eitt einasta illa snyrt leiði. Skoðuðum líka eina litla sæta myllu. Látum myndirnar bara tala sínu máli. Takk fyrir okkur elsku mæðgur. Hlakka til að sjá ykkur í haust. Þangað til næst, ykkar Kristín á Nesan.

There is something strangely beautiful about abandoned places. Old houses standing quietly in the landscape, weathered by time, holding stories no one tells anymore. Every window, every worn doorway, every fading wall makes me wonder — who once lived here? What kind of life filled these rooms with laughter, warmth, arguments, dreams, and everyday moments? As I walk around these forgotten buildings with my camera, I often find myself imagining the people who once called them home. Did children run across the grass outside? Did someone sit by the window waiting for a loved one to return? What made them leave? Was it time, hardship, changing generations, or simply life moving on? There is a quiet poetry in abandoned homes. Nature slowly reclaims them, softening the edges with moss, grass, and wildflowers. The silence feels almost sacred, as if the houses themselves are resting while still holding memories within their walls. Photographing these places is not only about decay — it is about