Edited to note: This post was written in Mid-May, but posted in August.
On 12 March, Norway shut down, like a polar bear going into hibernation. We joined the whole country, withdrawing to the safety of our luxury cave, garden and endless walking trails in the woods.
I've journaled sporadically throughout this pandemic experience, but I haven't felt like writing for anything beyond work. The country is opening now, dragging me out of our comfortable secure hibernation.
The time has arrive to start writing again. I'll start with walking photos.
In the last months, Jamie-dog's speed has caught up with his age, he enjoys a slow meander. My exercise starved legs scream at the plodding pace. With time, we've reached a compromise. Every few days I jet through a super sonic walk, returning only to leave again to wander another hour at a sniff everything and pee on more pace.
We've also taken to walking near sunset, when the forest's full of bird song and empty of people. Monday evening we took a slightly different route. Where the forest met the meadow, a sudden crash of broken branches of a large animal running cut through the bird concert. That sounds bigger than a deer, I told Jamie.
Jamie's head came up, nose flaring, tail wagging, full of energy. Carefully I travelled the last few meters to the forest's edge and looked out. A moose, female, looked pointedly back. I scanned the area for baby moose, and saw none. Ms Moose continued to stare, ears at attention. While she would be small sized up to an Alaskan moose, I choose caution, not wanting to find the hidden baby. With the joy of an offered treat Jamie happily retreated into the woods where we found another path home.
Can you find the moose? She's in the sunny bit.
Here she is! In a photograph to rival the impressionists. (Nothing to do with trying to hold on an eager dog and photograph one handed.)
