Portent of Things to Come ....

Was out with Gary last evening to buy a fire pit for the scouts then to eat at a Chinese restaurant. As we were walking through the parking lot, a cool breeze past by, lifting my hair and smelling of trees and grass. It took me back three years to October in Oslo, Norway – a month filled with the promise of things to come.

And suddenly I was back in Texas, and disappointed….

I went to Norway with my family at a time that I was not really stable. I had been diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) years before and was still dealing with the panic attacks and depression much more than I should have been. I was not losing chunks of time – which was what initially gave me a clue that my brain was not functioning normally in the first place. In Norway, I was unable to work even if I had wanted to since I did not possess a work visa. I loved Monday mornings when Gary headed to work, Ryan & Jessie were off to school and all of a sudden, the 100 year old house and the 2 ½ acres it sat upon were mine – all mine. It oozed peace and I soaked it up every day – until that last day, as the sun was setting, we said goodbye to an empty house and headed back to our hotel, for our flight to the US in the morning.

I came back in much better shape than I had been before. I can go to the cemetery and sit by Rachael's marker and not feel loss, she isn’t there, and I am OK. I can see a funnel cloud and I am not back in the middle of the tornado that hit our house. It makes me nervous, but that is all. I know that my panic attacks will go away and even in the depths of one, my calm, peaceful Norwegian voice I found, will whisper that all will be well, just ride it out, nothing to be afraid of – it always goes away – and I can almost function during one …. almost.

Yeah, the wind, and October: The thing that always followed was winter and that meant snow. Lots of snow:

And I loved it. If I was cold, I could put on down coats, and booties and sit closer to the fire, so cold was never the issue. It was all about the snow – so quiet, so peaceful, blanketing everything in Celestial white. And I would build a fire in “Lori’s Room” and read a book, and quietly, peacefully, cradled in 100 year old wood and a cocoon of snow … slowly heal. I loved the snow. It reminded me of growing up in Logan, Utah – and also made it no big deal to live in it.

In Norway in the winter, the sun would rise late and set early and stay very low on the horizon – and for a photographer – you know what that means. Entire days full of perfect light to take photographs. The only good time to take a photograph (you can ask anyone – don’t trust me, I don’t know what I am doing) is at dusk and dawn. And here I lived, right in the middle of magic light for 6 to 8 hours a day – and everything I looked at looked like a beautiful photograph.



But now I am in Houston, and will look forward to bundling up, and bringing out our winter dyne’s (duvet’s – Gary and I have individual ones, as they do in Norway – stops that hogging), but it is not the same. The cold is colder here- I guess the humidity – we blame it for everything else. I miss the silence of a snow fall, sitting in front of a fire, the feeling of being cradled in down, and light and snow and being able to sleep – really fall asleep.

I will miss the snow.