Text and image Britt-Arnhild
A year is coming to an end, and I am coming to the last pages of my diary. We are in the middle of the Christmas holidays, and I find some tome to sit down in silence. I have my diary in my lap, but no words have found their way to the blank page yet. I look out of the window. For some time I see the beauty out there. The trees, the snow, the lovely darkening sky. Then my eyes look further back and I see the year where I have lived and loved the past 365 days.
The death of a dear friend, travels, dinners, pizzas, loads of pizzas. Outstanding moments. Laughter. Tears. Thankfulness. Questions, why God?
I see the small things, which are often the most memorable ones; a smile from a dear friend, a letter, a shared breakfast, a book, words given to a deep secret, love, a movie, music, colours...
Slowly I lift my pen.......and start to write.
