« […] Sometimes the familiar is exceptional and we contemplate, fascinated, what we thought we knew. We then stop seeing and start looking, imagining, understanding. Everything in this morning of April 6th is outstanding. I stand on the doorstep, drunk by the tiredness of a storm that didn’t let me sleep, hustled by the wind, blinded by the snow. Where did the first days of spring go? Backpack, binoculars around my neck, telescope on my shoulders, I am crossing this blizzard to join the observatory. Four days now that I am counting migratory birds here in Lista, southern Norway. The sea is a few tens of meters ahead of me and yet I barely discern the waves whose foam is blending to the snow that erases everything. […] »