Summer is shy in the Arctic. It plays peak-a-boo and goes into hiding when we pay it too much attention. But it is here, and we know it. The sun has stopped setting, the creeks have turned into waterfalls, cowslips are flooding the grass all over town, and baby seagulls (and people) are flooding the beaches. Even though we occasionally see snow falling down outside our window, summer is here. Life is resurrecting.
It appears as if the rule for an exponential spring growth also holds for shattered tibias. Four months ago, Martin got a some tough love from an Arctic birch on Gorzelvtind and as a consequence, the Orthopedists at UNN got the privilege to play Lego all night long in the surgery room. A little bit more than a month ago, as the snow still lay deep over the arctic, the X-rays of Martin’s right leg showed little evidence of callus activity. One month later, as the streets started to get crowded by baby seagulls and drunken students, there it was – a newborn baby tibia. The hobbit, and hope of a grand summer, resurrected.