I would be lying if I claimed that September didn’t offer rain and mud. Rain and mud is always on the menu in Tromsø, even when September decides to dress up in gold.
But although mud and rain has certainly been served during the past four weeks, it has been more like an occasional appetizer than a heavy main course.
I like rain and mud, but after having spent the summer shoving rain and mud down my throat, even I have felt quite full of it. I have felt very ready for dessert. I have craved dessert. My whole soul has been aching for dessert. After a summer of muddy porridge, we all bloody well deserved a big tasty dessert.
I am so glad that we got what we deserved. We ate it in big chunks, and I enjoyed every single bite. I enjoyed it immensely.
But however much I want it to, no dessert lasts forever. The leaves that are falling from the trees have grown in numbers, and the golden floor under our feet and wheels is starting grow into a slippery brown carpet.
September is going to it’s end. My dessert plate is empty. In the coming weeks, rain and mud will once again be the main dish on the menu, this time accompanied with a sauce of darkness. October. November.
It is time to practice endurance.