I've marveled at the incredible shade of blue the sky here. It's seems so much clearer and purer than the bluest of the blue skies back home. (Sorry North Carolina, you've got nothing on Norway.) Alas - that blue is hard to find in Oslo these days. There is light, and sometimes sun, but the stunningly clear blue February sky of Stavanger is not to be had. There have been some other stunning sights, though. The snow, heavy and fluffy, on the branches of the trees and bushes makes the whole world in to a Currier and Ives print.
As beautiful as the winter can be, I long for spring. For skirts, not tights, and blue skies with puffy white clouds. Crawfish and impromtu jam sessions in the living room, laughter and the clink of glasses, the crack of the bat against the ball. Mexican food on a patio, with a March wind whipping Susan's napkin across the parking lot. But for now, I'll settle for a Norwegian blue.
As beautiful as the winter can be, I long for spring. For skirts, not tights, and blue skies with puffy white clouds. Crawfish and impromtu jam sessions in the living room, laughter and the clink of glasses, the crack of the bat against the ball. Mexican food on a patio, with a March wind whipping Susan's napkin across the parking lot. But for now, I'll settle for a Norwegian blue.
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