Tromsø, Coastal Norway
Carved by glaciers and the sea, the coast of Norway meanders in and out. Islets protect the shorelines of the mainland and fjords finger deep into the rocky core. For hundreds of years explorers and trappers used Tromsø as the gateway, the springboard to the frozen north and it was to here that they returned, filled with glory or disappointment, heroes and weathered hunters.
We too have returned from the very far north, from the Svalbard archipelago and found ourselves surrounded by sounds and colors that were ever so much more vivid after an absence of barely a week. Close your eyes and image a land where plants grew only inches tall and ice flowed from valleys, where from a distance the terrain looked gray. This is where we came from. Now open your eyes and see trees, real trees, tall and verdant and shrubs as high as your shoulders. See gardens filled with lupines of many colors and umbelliferous plants as tall as the tallest man. This is where we are. The contrast between the present and the very recent past is ever so striking. Depriving oneself of stimulation makes everything more vibrant upon returning. Now think of a land where we saw no one but our floating community, no other humans crossed our path and suddenly we are surrounded by a city, a small city but none-the-less a city with cars and trucks and buses.
Light danced off the mountains between misty showers of rain. Clouds blanketed and then released images of bowl-shaped cirques guarded by sharp horns towering above. Neat white houses and red barns nestled amongst forest green trees, gradually increasing in number and aggregating into a colorful youthful town. Like slabs of ice piled on the shore, the Arctic Cathedral, a modern architectural structure, seemed to invite those traveling from the sea to meander deeper into green carpeted valleys to explore some more.
Many meandered the streets of town and absorbed the museum displays. Others ventured out of town, to the nearby island of Kvaløya to meander and marvel at the diversity of plant life dwelling there. We’ve left the world of the polar bear, that carnivore of the north, and entered the realm of carnivorous plants. Sundews with red hairs decorated by glistening water droplets invited tiny insects to perch upon their leaves. Light green rosettes of butterwort tried a different technique. Both were intent on trickery to catch within a trap a nutritious morsel for nutrients that are lacking in their watery habitat. Blueberry and crowberry tempted birds and human grazers with a profusion of juicy fruits, their goal to spread their progeny far and wide. Fall is slowly coming but before the darkness arrives, wildflowers enjoy their last fling, their last bright blossoms intent on seed production. Here and there foliage exhibited those lovely oranges, reds and golds of fall.
Slowly we work our way south, on our watery highway, intent on learning more about whatever Norway offers.
