Do you like moody weather? A blue-grey stormy sky, clouds rimmed with the fading light, a shadow creeping across the landscape as the weather advances? Yeah, me too.
‘You see those rocks? The ones sitting on top of the mountain?’ He points at the ridge line. ‘They’re not rocks, they’re trolls.’
I have this thing for birds sitting on top of poles. Telephone poles, lamp posts, ship masts. Plop a bird on top of a spindly peak and I will stop and stare. Why? I have no idea, have never really given it much thought before – until …
Summer is achingly sweet here in Bø. The sleepy months of winter are long, leaving little time for life to dilly-dally when the days begin to warm up.