Obviously, we need to talk about the weather

JUST THEN we had spring in sight behind the horizon, came the winter. Everything was bare and dark, while the days imperceptibly became longer and the nights shorter. The snow had fallen here on the South coast already in December – and his habit of faith disappeared again after a hell of issvuller and rain. The temperature has remained above zero. The grass was starting to dream about the days with steikende grotid, accompanied by gressklipperens roaring symphony. The sun has appeared in brief moments and the memory of that solsystemets center is filled with glowing vortexes of fire, so hot that they reach all the way to the little street we live on earth.

BUT THEN some grey clouds moving. Gradstokken sank below zero. A shred came falling like a paratrooper with a message of peace. So a to. A whole invasion. The one surface after the other covered in white. The roofs, the fences, the trees, the cars, the bikes, the sidewalks are covered in snow. The wires that extend along the poles with the street lights, a thin layer of white on top of him. The traffic is too small to keep the streets snow-free. Soon the white, they also. All the colors are sucked into this strange light that encircles our existence.

the SILENCE ADDS over the earth. All noise is muted. Only when snøfreserne eventually shows up, cuts a roar through the night, before it disappears again. The snow is not gone, it just relocated. It feels safe to be trapped by the amounts of snow leave. They are building a soft wall against utenverdenen, a protection against everything that is on the outside. We can sit inside and enjoy the view of its peculiar form of beauty, this white that forms its own soft forms in front of our eyes.

EVERYBODY TALKS about the weather. Classic among all our subjects. Of course we are talking about the weather. Though the snow that keeps us from kjedsommeligheten. Winter. Was it better before? I don't believe it. Snug inside, out a suction of cold and frost, a doom of the most beautiful battle. Clearly we need to talk about the weather. The snow is no punishment, but a privilege.