They always say you should not write something unless you have actually got something to say. However, as you can probably tell from the title of this post I am well on my way to breaking that rule.
The truth is I have plenty of stories to tell. I just returned from spending five months in one of my favourite places on Earth and even though the amount of long hikes has been limited since the dark season (and daily routine) set in, we have taken plenty of trips in Tromsø. Trips to hidden caves and mountain ridges, trips to the grocery store and trips down memory lane. And even though the words sometimes feel like they are tripping over each other to get out, the all encompassing feeling in regards to the theme of this blog, for now, is stillness.
Shoes left footless by the door, dry mud stains revealing past adventures. Silent.
This time, as we all know too well, it is not just the normal silence of the season, the one that always sets in with the December solstice. This time the whole World appears to collectively hold its breath in an attempt not to exhale onto each other our hopes and dreams and aspirations for the new year. For now, none of us really know anything and the simple act of dreaming of a long walk feels almost too daring.
But I still do. And those shoes, my shoes, will walk again because they were made for it. And the World will exhale forcefully.
I have my own selfish reasons for wanting this to be over soon. I suspect we all do. But there is nothing I can do except wait until the steps and trips and days start to grow longer once more.
So, for now: nothing to report.