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| The park behind the Palace |
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| An interior little garden |
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| A new companion? |
I am back from Indonesia.
When I left Oslo the trees where green. That was then. Now they insist in turning yellow and this transformation really tickles my eyes. I must look like a weirdo because I stop and stare at the almost yellow tree I see. Like a child staring at something magical.
The autum has a philosophical feeling to it. I do think of our lives, how we go from summer to autum at some point. How we change our colors throughout our life.
Doesn't the seasonal change make you think of ageing? Of the life cycles? I think it is a futile exercise to try to define what seasons or the ages are better than the others. Some would argue - with passion! - that summer is better than winter or that being young is better than turning old. But that is not an objective truth. It is social programming. Why can´t the reverse be true?
I notice the mornings are getting darker. This morning I woke up at 7:20am and it looked like 4am. But I am not worried. In fact, I convincing myself that the winter mornings will do wonders for my reading and writing.
It is getting colder too. 2 degrees at night already in October!
This morning Bjørn set a fire in the kitchen so I stayed at the kitchen-table for hours, working away.
The whispering noises from the fire place were so soothing that, perhaps, this season I should continue writing in the kitchen.
That sounds cozy.
Or koselig... How they say it Norwegian.
(And no, if you are wondering, I have not been able to study any Norwegian since September. I have been to five countries since September!)
