|above the city of Bergen|
Kristine leads me on a short hike to her private lake she seems to share only with ducks and whatever unseen wildlife might be hiding. Among the flora blossoming in the Norwegian summer are wild lavender, raspberry, and blueberry bushes which my host and friend points out as we walk.
The trail arrives at lake's edge. We sit on the rocks, taking in the stillness and tranquility. We're far from any sounds of the city. Norway's population is small, and the country sparsely populated. The fact that there likely a plethora of similar bodies of water throughout the country.makes this spot no less perfect.
|flowering rosebay willow herb (fireweed) in Norway|
I tread water, the sun still high in the sky at 8 PM, not a soul around, gazing at the tree lined banks.
The trail and the mountain lake I speak of
For me, the water's too cold to stay out longer. I return to the bank, pull myself out, and wait for Kristine who's enjoying her vigorous exercise. When she's done, we sit quietly for several minutes before retreating to her house.
She starts making dinner. Wanting to contribute I head back outside and start picking wild raspberries. It takes me an hour, but I've finally gathered two small containers worth. I return to find a warm meal waiting for me.
We eat outside, Kristine re-gifting the raspberries for dessert. I don't know if it's their freshness, or that that they're the bounty of my labor, but they taste absolutely amazing. We sit in silence, savoring the sweet and tart fruits of my labor. Here in the hills around Bergen, life is simple. Who needs anything more?