I spent this past week in Oslo, Norway at the invitation of Biola´s very own Karen Riddervold. My eyes have never seen so much in one trip, what a blessed feast for the eyes is Oslo! Madrid has never been so green and the chestnut trees are in bloom. But here, a pear tree and a few words from the north.
Oslo. We have so much water she said, and it´s incredible and bursting forth. The snow is melting, flooding the hillside and rushing to the sea in drips, flows and gurgles. Sounding. This moment the sun is hidden but all is light and gray. We went on a long walk past homes, all big and beautiful, the fjord noticeable between their sides; those architectural forms marked by historic influence. Those ancient Viking ships turned square, topped with a roof and occupied once more. Our feet turned from the asphalt to a snowy path, dirty and spotted with horse hooves, trees, a forest-city, a city-forest, the two at once. The importance of silence and I wanted to be writing in the moment, my eyes coursing over the landscape like a lover, my ears catching like nets the songs of the birds, insect-like in their numbers. The Oslo fjord is wherever I turn, changing it´s shape, growing larger and widening, glacier carved and savage; a gaping mouth, lapping at the city and moving ferries with it´s tongue.