Reindeer, Rain and Rivers
Photographer Abbie Trayler-Smith in Norway
We join the Sami people of Arctic Norway at an intense time of year: for the next 2-3 weeks the Sami will be herding their reindeer, who have been roaming free for the summer, down from the snow dusted mountains and preparing them for crossing open waters in search of winter pastures. It is no easy task and the whole community rallies together to corral the animals, marking them by cutting their ears to work out which animal belongs to which family, giving them anti-parasitic drugs, and preparing them for the journey ahead. It is a total mystery to me how they tell which reindeer even have which markings, but this is a talent learned over centuries. Although they may use quad bikes where their ancestors walked on foot, the knowledge and the love of the reindeer is in their blood. I’m taken aback by the energy rushing from the scene unravelling in front of me, and by the harshness of the environment in which they work. It is pelting with rain, which at times arrives horizontally, occasionally turning to hail before calming until the next gust whips up the mud from the floor.
I am wearing approximately 8 layers of clothing, desperately clutching my cameras underneath my raincoat to try and protect them from the elements, and the mud being spattered from the thunder of the hooves spinning around me in the corral. But the Sami seem oblivious to the environment, only caring to make sure the deer are all in order, and calm before crossing the water. Over the course of the week a few hundred deer are moved each day. Asking the Sami how many reindeer they have is akin to asking someone in Britain how much money they have in the bank. The animals are their currency, as well as their livelihood, culture and history.
Ella, our main character, tells me of her family holiday to Turkey this year, which she found too hot too bear, and made her realise beyond a shadow of a doubt that her place rests among the Sami and their deer in the Northern Troms. Often one of the most under-rated pleasures we get from travelling is realising that what we have right under our noses is to be treasured.
Ella’s mother, May-Torill, watches the deer begin their journey towards winter pastures
Pink Snow and Blue Icebergs
Greenland
Waiting for the sun that never rises
Greenland. Oh my God! What an amazing and extreme place. This was the first time that I have ever been to the Arctic. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting. Cold? Yes of course, but I don’t think anything can quite prepare you for the astonishing panoramas that hide quietly around every frozen corner. A winter north of the Arctic circle is no place for sun worshippers. Daily life is lived amidst a magical pink twilight that leaves you feeling like each day never really starts. For a photographer it’s a dream. I mean, you get to see colours you never knew existed in the natural world and you only have to work a 3 hour day. The only draw back is the cold. Like having to gulp down your morning cup of tea before it freezes in your mug, or watching in horror as your camera shuts down as vital pieces of rubber freeze and snap in half. Both happened to me on this shoot. But hey, who cares? You’re in the Arctic surrounded by huskies and blue icebergs! It’s a small price to pay.
Excuse me. Is this the queue for the ice cream van?
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Interested in more stories from Greenland? Try HERE
