During our days at the cabin I got messages on my cellphone almost every day from a friend who is celebration Easter in Terracina (where I spent two Easter weeks last year). My mind wanders then. Down to Italy. To its people, its food, its history, its cafés, its warm temperatures. To all the things I love about this country which I have been able to visit several times a year the last years.
There is so much to see and to experience in Italy. There is never a dull moment. And I dig myself deeper into Under the Tuscan Sun
, and keep on dreaming.
Then I suppenly open my eyes and look around me. "Hey" I say to myself , "Here you are, right in the middle of the most beautiful Norwegian countryside. Look around and see what you actually have!". And I spend a morning exploring this perfect spot on earh.
I want some fresh, yellow flowers for my Easter tree, so our first goal is a garden center over at Skardsøya (the island Skard). I am not sure if the nursery is open so early in the year, but I am not disappointed. The center is packed with flowers in every possible shade of yellow. I fill up with branches of forsythia, and can't resist candles and napkins in a bright, shining green. It will make a perfect Easter table.
Vi have visited this place several times in summer, and in a few weeks now I will find out if the two small rhododendrons I bought last year have survived. So far they are coverd under a layer of snow in our House in the Wood's Blue Garden.
Skardsøya is big, and we have been told that on the southern edge of the island (actually over to the next much smaller island, which is connected with a bridge), a new owner has bought the old grocery store which closed some time ago. We head in that direction, passing several spots which I note down in my mind that we must stop and photograph on our way back.
The shop is just a tiny little room, though filled with charm. Actually the basement of the old shop, which was situated down on the harbour, is divided in two - the groceries to the right, a new café to the left. We can't resist the smell of coffee and sit down with two huge mugs, blueberry muffins and a coke and a sundae for Marta. We are the only visitors, and the owner has time enough at hand and wants to talk. Which is perfect for me. My grandpa used to live on this island as a boy. It is only to mention his name and we have enough to talk about for a long time. I love to get history passed on this way. This is something Italy can never give me.
One of the sights we passed on our drive over the island was a huge, black wrought iron gate, with letters and ornaments. We have passed here many times, but never seen the gate before. I ask Terje to stop, and run out to get a photo. The letters interwoven in the wrought iron tells that this is an orchard originally planted in 1881, then restored in 2001. Everything was closed when we passed, and so early in spring all the appletrees were bare, but this must be a pretty sight in a couple of months. We will come back.
The last stop before driving home is the abandon barnhouse. I couldn't resist the pinetrees growing on the barn bridge
Back at the cabin I write several pages in the huge red and back notebook which I hope one day will become my "under the Norwegian sun". Italy has it's very special charm, and I will go back again and again. But a day during Easter break reminded me not to forget the charm and beauty which surrounds me here in Norway every day.
The first thing Marta packed for her Venice trip was her art supplies. She loves painting and drawing, and have practiced for a long time to travel to Venice and paint in this city where you find art around every corner.
by Henry James. I have been fascinated by James' writing for some time, and also the story of the friendship between him and the Norwegian/American sculpturor
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