In 2017, I found myself sitting at a cozy little bar called the Viking in Poulsbo, Washington, savoring a pint of rich, delicious porter. The warm sunlight streamed in from behind me and to my left, casting a gentle glow on the bar and illuminating my hands as well as the glass before me. In that quiet moment, I suddenly envisioned the creamy beer foam coating the inside of my glass as frothy, cresting waves upon a restless sea.
My imagination then carried me further, picturing a majestic Viking longship boldly cresting over those foaming waves! It made me wonder just how many times my Norse ancestors, living in far-off lands and distant times long ago, sat at their wooden benches, drinking a horn of ale on a cold and wintery day, eagerly anticipating the moment when the weather would finally turn favorable for raiding. Once the skies cleared and the seas calmed, they would be ready to “Go a’Viking” with fierce determination and unyielding spirit!
In 2017, I found myself sitting at a cozy little bar called the Viking in Poulsbo, Washington, savoring a pint of rich, delicious porter. The warm sunlight streamed in from behind me and to my left, casting a gentle glow on the bar and illuminating my hands as well as the glass before me. In that quiet moment, I suddenly envisioned the creamy beer foam coating the inside of my glass as frothy, cresting waves upon a restless sea.
My imagination then carried me further, picturing a majestic Viking longship boldly cresting over those foaming waves! It made me wonder just how many times my Norse ancestors, living in far-off lands and distant times long ago, sat at their wooden benches, drinking a horn of ale on a cold and wintery day, eagerly anticipating the moment when the weather would finally turn favorable for raiding. Once the skies cleared and the seas calmed, they would be ready to “Go a’Viking” with fierce determination and unyielding spirit!
