Day:253, Words:253

Hooray, the street lights have magically returned. I will admit that there is otherwise little to report from the Øksfjord front. Perhaps all is quiet in preparation for the late autumn. It is a paradoxically beautiful, yet depressing time of year. The visitors from the south are not the only ones to notice the darkening days. The view from the balcony does however provide a range of postcard moments. The colours are nothing but striking. Greens, reds, browns and yellows blend together to create a magnificent vista, culminating in spectacular sunsets. It just occured to me that those who live so far north, experience half of the sunrises and sunsets as those living beneath the polar circle.

I happened to accidentally stumble across a documentary outlining the battles of 1066 between the vikings and the English. As I watched the re enactments of the warriors of the north slaying the Englishmen like a knive through butter in a sauna, a thought occurred to me. How on earth did the Norwegian football team put up such a lackluster performance to recently lose 2-0 to tiny Iceland. Interestingly, the vast majority of vikings never actually wore horns apon their helmets, which is ironic considering the number of passive helmet wearing Norwegians proudly adorning horns during the loss in Reykjavik.

Otherwise, life is as you would expect it to be in the quaint village of Øksfjord. The days race by, full of busy folk getting, as Madonna once said, "into the gove", of post summer existence.

 

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