The Guardians of the Månafossen III by Gerry van Roosmalen

The Månafossen towers before me, a powerful 92-meter torrent plunging thunderously into the depths. This iconic waterfall, hidden in Rogaland province not far from Stavanger, has a certain magic about it. Today, it feels as if nature itself is testing me: the rain has made the rocks slippery and treacherous, and every step demands my full attention. With a twisted ankle, the hike has become a true ordeal; I struggle upward, relying on my Nordic walking sticks and the chains anchored to the rocks.

During my challenging climb, I think about the story of Prince Håkon, the young Norwegian prince who, according to legend, once hid in a secret cave near the waterfall. His family had sent him here with a small group of loyal followers, far from hostile eyes and betrayal. The cave, known as Månagård, was an ideal refuge; the thunderous waters of Månafossen kept intruders at bay, masking every sound. Here, the prince lived far from court life, in solitude and fighting for his survival.

With that thought, my own small struggles seem insignificant. The steep slopes, the slick stones, the uphill path—Prince Håkon faced much more. He had to endure not only the elements but also his own solitude, with nothing but his faith in those around him. As I trudge onward, I wonder if he, like me, ever longed for an easier path or found courage in the rugged beauty around him.

I pause, captivated by the feeling that I am in the company of invisible guardians. The people here say that Prince Håkon and his followers still watch over their refuge, that their spirits can sometimes be seen through the mist—a glimpse of a past that never truly disappeared.

At that moment, the Månafossen feels like a gateway between worlds, a place where stories remain alive, woven into the rocks, the water, and the mist.

Perhaps, I think, nature indeed reveals her secrets only to those who take the time to truly listen.