Traveling Lens

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Will never forget moments like this, when snow was just a whisper of a thought and when the mountains jutted up from the water like heartbeats.

I stood there for as long as I could, my face caressed by the cold until all of the voices of ghosts from the past who proclaimed that I was not good enough, that I was not ever enough, that I was not enough of enough were drowned out by nature’s roaring silence, exorcised across the sea up through a parting in the clouds.

And for the first time ever my heart was as vast and wild as the landscape that stretched out before me, my future unfolding on the waves dark and mysterious and full of promise.

Arctic. Hell Gate channel. Ellesmere Island. (at Ellesmere Island)

(via nythroughthelens)