Cottage at Nesoddtangen |
The other night, as I sat writing in the cottage’s large living room, I noticed that storm clouds were gathering and the wind was picking up. I could hear it blowing around the cabin. It was only 7pm, but storm clouds filled the sky, threatening rain later on. The weather has been so unstable this summer; torrential rains one day followed by a day with hail and snow (in some areas of Oslo). That was last week. Other days are warm and sunny, like today, a real summer day, when the blue skies seem to go on forever. But as far as the weather goes, one needs to be prepared for all eventualities. After twenty years here, I have learned to take the weather in stride.
Fireplace at the cottage |
Brown snail on road |
Brennmanet or Lion's mane jellyfish |
Much has
changed during the past twenty or so years, in regard to the cottage itself as
well as its visitors. When we first used to come here, drinking water had to be
drawn up from a well, and drawing it up was hard work. The cottage had no
bathroom—no shower or toilet; rather an outhouse that I do not remember fondly.
I remember hating outhouses already as a young child; one of our favorite
family picnic areas in Pound Ridge, New York had outhouses instead of regular
bathrooms-- the outhouses themselves were unpleasant places to enter—dark and
filled with flies, and the smell was awful and pervasive. Over the years, the
outhouse at the cottage was replaced by what was called an environmental toilet
located in a ‘bathroom’ of sorts attached to the house, and this year, to our
(happy) surprise, that room has now been converted into a regular bathroom with
a full shower, sink and toilet. Most ‘cottages’ now in Norway are quite
luxurious (and not really cabins at all)—arrayed with all the trimmings—radiant
floor heat, state-of-the-art kitchens and bathrooms, exemplifying the
accumulation of personal wealth in this country over the past twenty years.
People want convenience and comfort now. When it comes to having a nice
bathroom, I am in that group. But otherwise, I am content with the simple
trappings of this cottage. Many of the couples with whom we socialized early on
are no longer together. Some have new partners and new lives, and are no longer
in our circle. Those couples who are still together now vacation in warmer
places—where sun and warmth are guaranteed. I can honestly understand their
wish for sunshine, warmth, and stable summer weather. Sometimes I miss the old
days though. Some relatives are quite elderly now, too frail to make the
journey to visit us at the cottage. We make the journey to visit them instead.
The children who used to come here are grown up now and will soon be having
children of their own. My husband and I are alone at the cottage this week,
enjoying our time alone, reading, writing (me), sleeping, shopping for
groceries, watching TV in the late evenings, and being generally lazy. Time
passes slowly, but it passes and moves us onward. Next week I will be in New
York for my annual visit. When I remember back to our time at the cottage,
during the wintertime perhaps, I will wonder what it was we did each day at the
cottage. But then I look at photos and remember; today my husband picked
wildflowers, yesterday we were able to barbecue, today we took a long boat
trip, and so on. I look at him, at our life, and wonder how it is that more
than twenty years have passed since we first got together, since I first moved
to Norway. Time for reflection will do that to you; nostalgia, memories, common
sense, acceptance of life, of aging, of watching the next generation take over
for ours; all of these things seem more intense to me when I have the time to
reflect upon them. It does not make me sad; it’s more that I register my tiny
place in the scheme of things, in the universe, and my small contributions to
the life around me. I have to say that things feel right with the world when
you know where and how you fit into the scheme of things. It’s good to get
perspective.
Fjord view from the cottage, with our wooden boat (mid-picture) |
Sunset at Nesoddtangen and the docked passenger ferry |
Wildflowers that my husband picked |