The Stegastein viewpoint rested calmly high above the Aurlandsfjord. Below us, the fjord wound deeply between the mountains’ green-clad walls, mirror-like and still. The view was magical — as if nature itself opened up here, just for us.

We stood there alone. No voices, no footsteps, only the wind caressing our cheeks and gently whispering through the treetops behind us. The fresh air was clear and vibrant — carrying the scent of forest, water, and mountains.

The mountains rose toward the horizon in soft silhouettes, and the sky was a deep blue. Not a single cloud, only light, vastness, and the quiet presence of the fjord.

It was a moment outside of time. A moment that simply was.