Some people talk about how a city feels "alive." There's an energy at all hours of the day, and the lights and noise and activity never really subside. I've enjoyed my time living in various cities, but that constant hum seems unsustainable.
Living on Nesodden, I've noticed that there's a distinct cycle of things. During the mornings, there's a steady stream of commuters moving towards the tip of the peninsula to ride the ferry to and from work. A scattered few move around the peninsula during the day, and in the late afternoon, everything reverses as people come home.
On the weekends, people move outdoors. The skiers take to the trails. The bikers and runners move along beside the cars driving here and there. The sleepy town center seems to wake up as everyone crowds the grocery to stock up before the stores close for Sunday.
Our family had to adjust to the closed stores on Sunday when we moved to Norway. We're prone to forgetting things, and would often find ourselves needing a bit of milk or bread when Sunday morning came around. There are a handful of places where you can go on Sundays for these staples, but we also just sometimes went without or made a substitute for something we were used to - like yogurt instead of eggs for breakfast.
When things are open all hours of the day, all days of the week, there's convenience, but there's also something that's lost. I can't quite put my finger on why, but I love the cycles here. I love the balance of stillness and activity. Of quiet and commotion. Of having what we need and also being patient. We plan better now. We relax better now. And despite being immigrants, we don't really feel like outsiders. We feel at home and part of this living community.
Not all blog posts will be about quilting, but there's a good chance they'll all have a picture of a quilt in them... enjoy.