Autumn has been gasping for air lately. I think that it exhaled for the last time and went to rest last night.
We’ve followed the changes during autumn’s last struggle. It has been fighting well. We’ve seen the colors go from green, to yellow and red, and then every nuance in between and at the same time.
But then came the storm. Howling winds of 36 m/s shook our house and closed the bridge. Not even the gnarly birches of the north could withstand. Their leaves were ripped and sailed through the air like miniature kite sails.
When the wind abated and the clouds lifted from the fjord, the mountains around Tromsø had changed.