Back in May last year I took an evening stroll above Frognerseteren in the hills over Oslo. I did the same walk today, in February, at -3C and snow all around. Heike was still there, dressed for the occasion. And she had clearly delighted folk recently. Sadly not today...But it was rarely as silent as May. The forest was the haunt of solitary skiers, announced by whoosh or slap of skinny skis. Most were glum and only muttered back to my "Hi, Hi!" Well it is Oslo... But one unglum man even asked me the way, and I duly obliged him with a little map...
But there precious moments of near slience, when all that could be heard was the head-turning ghostly rustle of snow cascading off laden trees, the deep bark of a raven, or the near inaudible scampering of a red squirrel. It must be an amazing place at night, not least because of all many tracks of quadrupeds which were not pet dogs...
There were long sunny spells until low cloud blanketed the hills. Making these young tree figures even spookier...
