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Norway was draped with streamers of clouds as we flew in yesterday morning. It took me a while to come up with that word. Initially I thought rope. And then, in a sleep-deprived haze, I wondered about spaghetti strands. They were much thicker than spaghetti strands, the long slender clouds that hovered over the fields and rested on the hills. So many shades of grey. They were pretty from below as well – the fluted sky, soft enough to sleep in.

Streamers isn’t quite right either, as that gives the impression of movement, and these clouds were very still. Anyway…

Flying in to New York was extremely pretty too (we had to change planes there). Acres and acres of bright red forest. Incredible.

We dived gratefully into bed at two thirty in the afternoon. Michael woke me up at midnight insisting that we should get up for a few hours or we’d be up all night. Probably a good idea as we’ve made a dent in the sorting and unpacking, will go back to sleep in a bit and hopefully manage to stay awake tomorrow. We’ll see. The washing is done. The candles are lit. Thomas Tallis serenades. M says it feels like Christmas. I think we’ll survive the winter.

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