Not exactly Shelley ...

Ode to Spring!

The snow is in grey and filthy heaps on every street corner and open space. The monstertrucks with their gaping jaws spit snow over pavements and parked cars. My car is held hostage until warmer weather. Everytime I go to the grocery store, it's an extreme sport event. The pavements are sprinkled with lumpy ice and the icicles drip their icey warnings before they drop like silent bombs and explode – on someones head or on the ground, sending up a shower of shrapnel. The wind is sneaking around corners, waiting for a bite of naked flesh. Poor me – in my haste to enjoy the day, both gloves and woollen scarf is left behind. My neck is open prey to the wind when it lunges at my like frozen vampire in a feeding frenzy.
But it's spring!
On the way down a slippery hill I heard birds sing for the firs time this year. People waiting for busses and trams turn their sunhungry faces to the sun. All for a shade of warmth. The shingles on the rooftops break through the thick layer of snow that has held them in it's grip for these many months. My happy tree outside the kitchen window stretches hesistantly it's naked branches and looks like it's pondering shooting out buds at anytime now.
It's spring in Oslo!

What will come ...

This blogg is under construction. What will come, is a tale of how we started writing together and what we have published. And who we are ...