We follow heavy footprints onto the ice. It's the Russian millionaire, someone says. Nervous laughter. He has been carrying a stick. Throw powdered snow into the air, a dog's jaws snap. Falling into holes, laughing, shouting. Not too loud. We watch the sun run toward Norway. Orange and purple clouds; ravens hunt low for food. It looks like the sea is burning, I say. I am reminded of home.