LONGYEARBYEN, Norway — It was early April, and while the midnight sun had not yet arrived on the remote archipelago of Svalbard, darkness had begun its annual four-month retreat from the world’s northernmost town. On a cold, pristine morning, sled dogs with their thick coats and powerful legs began a howling chorus as they set off into a snowy valley of reindeer, grouse and distressed grandeur.
Svalbard, between mainland Norway and the North Pole, offers one of the world’s most isolated and arresting wildernesses. The northern lights dance to an electromagnetic rave party. Mountains dive into fjords as if to go swimming, their bases shaped like the wide paws of polar bears.