The end of November, a few weeks ago, the polar night began in Svalbard, the long night, or as the locals often say: the dark season. The Todalen Valley. We stop for a moment. The car engine stalls. I put on my hat and gloves and go outside. No light reaches us. Perfect darkness, which not even the moonlight illuminates, as it has hidden somewhere below the horizon.

– Perfect darkness, – I said, looking around

– Perfect silence, – I added, feeling a bit uneasy at the sound of my own voice.

– It’s unusual,- I heard. – It’s never quiet in the Arctic.

I don’t quite understand, so I ask curiously.

– Why? There’s no one here, no one makes any noise.

– It’s the wind; there’s always a breeze here.

I freeze in silence for a moment. I close my eyes. I don’t hear the wind, I don’t hear any sounds, I don’t hear anything. Perfect silence, disturbed only by the beating of my heart.