Who needs a TV anyway?
I have sat for three hours now, looking out the window, witnessing the play of changing landscape.
First act; the outline of the mountain sketched on the canvas of sky.
Second act; The fine reflection of the fjord, a fisherman’s boat cutting the surface like a zipper.
Third part; A thick white fog lay in streams around the mountains, like Christmas decoration on a tree.
Suddenly, or perhaps slowly (but at least quick enough to bring another pot of tea to boil – can this have been during the break?) a drape is folded over the work of art and I find myself giggling over what I just told my house-mate:
Perhaps the reason why my mood changes repeatedly here is because I am so in-tuned with nature?
(And perhaps, that very thought was influenced by a chapter in a Deepak Chopra book I am reading about the cycles and influence of nature, but that’s another story)
This morning it rained heavily.
Midday there was some sun breaking through the clouds, scattering gold on the sea.
Now, at 1.30 a.m. the show is over, the curtain has fallen and where there is usually a beautiful view, there is only white.
That must mean goodnight and thank y’all for coming.