Norway is just like home except greener and with more water. I know I have Norwegian blood and I want to belong here. I love the way the water is so deep and green, sometimes almost black. I see snatches of my name on every street, hear it strange on the lips of people I don’t know. I want to sit on the mountain and write and dream (the mountains here are small and low, compared to those imposing Rockies I’m used to). Norway’s mountains are comforting and close and somehow delicate. The fjords are miraculous. Today I drank water straight from a waterfall and it tasted slightly of rock and earth but maybe I imagined that. It was delicious and it was just water.
My heart aches and yearns for the book I’m reading, (“The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller) and I wonder about my future. I want everything. I feel I could eat the world raw, like they say in the book.
And I only have a few more days here, before going slowly home. So much, always all at once.