norwegian woods

“I really like you, Midori. A lot.”
“How much is a lot?”
“Like a spring bear,” I said.
“A spring bear?” Midori looked up again. “What’s that all about? A spring bear.”
“You’re walking through a field all by yourself one day in spring, and this sweet little bear cub with velvet fur and shiny little eyes comes walking along. And he says to you, “Hi, there, little lady. Want to tumble with me?’ So you and the bear cub spend the whole day in each other’s arms, tumbling down this clover-covered hill. Nice, huh?”
“Yeah. Really nice.”
“That’s how much I like you.”

Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami 

While the old skin of a snake is staring at me from the window, Sufjan Stevens is singing along Mr. Music's favourite song. I clean up the little cabin that has been Home for the last four days.

The little cabin with its beautiful fireplace. The little cabin with its astonishing surroundings. 

I keep waiting on the bad weather to show up but the Gods are being kind to me and are letting me enjoy these last days of the Norwegian summer. 

Lately, the sky lights up every night with Auroras. They seem clouds at the beginning but as soon as you see them dance, then you know. Norwegians tell their offspring to greet them by waving at them so they'll come down. That's what I do. I keep chasing a red one, but I still haven't found it.

Sufjan keeps on singing along. The perfect companion for these Norwegian Woods, for this Norwegian mood.

nuestro hogar by the sea

Si quieres ser feliz un dia emborráchate.

Si quieres ser feliz tres días cásate

Pero si quieres ser feliz toda la vida: Planta un jardín.

Proverbio Chino.

Tromso es uno de esos sitios donde la gente va y viene de algún sitio a algún otro. No se viene a Tromso por visitar Tromso, si no porque uno viene de las Lofoten Island o va a Finnmark a ver si consigue avistar algún rebaño de renos. Yo llegué a Tromso por las auroras boreales y porque quería estar al norte del norte, más allá del Círculo Polar Ártico.  

Aquí estoy frente al gran ventanal de Nordvoll Garn, esperando tener la suerte de avistar una orca uno de estos días cuando volvamos de recoger fresas y salgamos a pescar en el "sound" con el pequeño bote a motor de la granja.

Música clásica suena de fondo mientras Rodger, nuestro horondo anfitrión noruego, cocina con demasiada sal, como cada noche para todos nosotros, sus wwoofers: una australiana entradita en años, un francés hiper activo, un italiano humilde y calmado, 3 estadounidenses y la que aquí escribe. El trabajo es duro pero organizado y gratificante. Las fresas huelen mejor las vacas. Es un hecho. 

Los ferries pasan frente a nosotros, de un lado a otro del estrecho. I think I could be happy here.