I never thought I would say this but, it can actually get too hot. Like when its 39.6 degrees and there is no air conditioning. When the air is so warm and dry, it settles on your skin like a blanket. When the sky is a consistent, indifferent blue, like even the clouds can’t be bothered with the effort of crossing the sky. When at three in the afternoon, it is still everywhere, and by sunset, it is still scorching. The European Heatwave, which brought record-breaking temperatures to Western Europe.
They were all dressed in black. “Its like a funeral”, they said. The Death of the Year. Nervous laughter, an anxious wait to be called to the stage. Its crazy to think my first year of teaching is over. It could still be that first day, standing in my empty class with not enough tables for the 28 kids I would soon inherit. Trying to navigate playground duty with a dodgy foot, hastily learning names and how best to teach maths, how to get their attention when they’re running wild in gym class.
The cow and I were staring at each other. The inevitable tractor had made me quickly pull my bike over, right up next to her. She eyed me curiously, probably wondering what my problem was. Behind her, a whole herd of chocolate-splodged dairy cows, contentedly grazing green pasture, and a sign advertising free-range milk.
July 1st. The middle of the summer, the midst of the heatwave. A gorgeous morning, the sun already up. I laced up my running shoes, took a deep breath of fresh morning air, and set of down the driveway, starting my run. So ordinary, something I’ve done like clockwork for the last four years. No matter where I’ve been, put on my shoes, the day barely underway, jogged off for an hour. Birds were singing, the sky was azure, little rabbits hopped across my path. This was the life, I was so happy to be out there, free.
I know that there is some polar vortex right now in the US, bringing insanely cold temperatures. So I should not complain, but it is cold here. Most days don’t get above 5 degrees, and most nights go below -1. Its snowed a lot too. But there are mornings that fill you with hope. The sky is clear, turning from indigo to pale blue, a large golden moon between the rooftops. Slowly, the sun butters the world in a mellow light, and its just so beautiful. Freezing, but beautiful.
You know I once hated this season. I’m a summer girl; bright sunshine, long warm days, cloudless skies. But I’ve slowly started liking Fall. And this year in Bergen, surrounded by auburn and marigold colored leaves and spiralling sycamore seeds, I decided Fall was beautiful too. Some of the sunrises; getting ready to cycle to work, dawn breaking. And the glorious evening sunlight bathing everything in a rich, buttery glow. There were still so many days of lovely weather, too. But you started to feel the shift, that it might be warm in the day, but evening’s cold air would creep in sooner and sooner. And during the week of my half-term break, it was clear what season was in charge.
That funny time of year in Europe. When the heat hangs on, but the sun takes longer to surface in the mornings, and the moon is still a feature of the sky when you first step outside. The last week of my admittedly very long summer holiday. It was hard to leave family in England, but the dogs were along for the final ride. A week in Bruinisse, a chance to enjoy our soon-to-be-home, before I started my first real job.
There are roses which grow on the side of the wall. At first as rich and red as an expensive wine, slowly fading with the sun. Prune sniffs around them indifferently, then goes to lie down in her favorite spot. Summer time. When Prune came to us seven years ago, summer was slowly ending, Fall on its way. How she used to run, wild and young and free, late summer sun dancing across her shiny fur.
You know its rare that I say this but sometimes it really is nice not to travel. At least, not during the summer when you have a huge garden and patio and the roads are crowded and the airports stuffy. Of course, there’s the weather to consider. It might never get as hot as the continent, or as bone-dry as Southern Europe, but as we like to say, rain and stuff just tend to ‘blow over’ and not linger too long. Hence, a summer at home. Which also makes sense since this is likely our last summer in Norfolk.










