The first time I came to the Rondane mountains — where we have a cabin — was about fifteen years ago. My wife showed me a waterfall and I took some pictures. Then I lost them. In my mind they got better and better; the best pictures I’ve ever taken, possibly. Tragically lost.
Last Saturday, we went back. To get there, you start at in this valley where some very friendly cows are grazing — the place is called Myeseter (a seter is a summer pasture in the mountains) —
After a couple of miles, the stream drops into a deeper valley. The resulting waterfall (here from the far side of the valley) is called Myfallet:
Quite dramatic, but you have to get much closer. You have to go to the bottom. It’s a hike, the same amount of effort as climbing up and down a slippery irregular firestair in the Empire State Building, probably.
these are larkspur (wild delphiniums):
Half way down the undergrowth disappears and the gorge is revealed:
These can’t be compared with my first set of pictures; nor, sadly, with being at the waterfall itself.