I Have A Secret Place I Like To Be
I never got too well along with one of my brothers. Whenever we were left alone with each other and I ended up fed up with him, I'd run off for a bit. Just so I could spend as much time as possible away from him, nothing else.
At first, I used to go to the forest our parents owned. There was a lake there, where me and my siblings had built a raft out of planks and empty plastic gasoline containers, I think it was. I'd get on the raft and get it to about the middle of the lake, then I'd lay down and watch the clouds or fall asleep.
He kind of found me out, though. We lived in the middle of nowhere. Wasn't really any more obvious places to go. So I decided to get more adventurous.
Our house was close to the sea, and there was this small mountain whose cliff sides looked over the fjord. We were always told not to go up there, at least not on the side facing the sea, due to how dangerous it was. If you fell down one of the steep cliffs, there was no guarantee you'd hit dry land. When you live in northern Norway, falling into the open sea alone and unprepared usually means certain death. So I knew my brother (or anyone, for that matter) wouldn't search for me there.
After climbing and wandering over boulders, rocks, moss and bushes, I eventually found the most amazing spot that I'll never ever give anyone the directions to, unless I really, REALLY care for them.
I found a spot where there were tons of Cloudberries (for those who don't know what Cloudberries are, it's the tastiest berry available on the northern hemisphere, and typically really expensive in Norway for those who don't have the resources to look for them themselves), overlooking a tiny lagoon, of sorts. There was also some Rocky ground and boulders, which meant I could sit down without worrying about moisture. I'd bring blankets, thermoses of hot cocoa or coffee, snacks, etc. and sit there for hours, watching groups of Harbour porpoises swim by and great cormorants fly over my head, the gentle sound of the wind and seabirds filling the air. Sometimes the sound of rain hitting small bushes.
At first, I used to go to the forest our parents owned. There was a lake there, where me and my siblings had built a raft out of planks and empty plastic gasoline containers, I think it was. I'd get on the raft and get it to about the middle of the lake, then I'd lay down and watch the clouds or fall asleep.
He kind of found me out, though. We lived in the middle of nowhere. Wasn't really any more obvious places to go. So I decided to get more adventurous.
Our house was close to the sea, and there was this small mountain whose cliff sides looked over the fjord. We were always told not to go up there, at least not on the side facing the sea, due to how dangerous it was. If you fell down one of the steep cliffs, there was no guarantee you'd hit dry land. When you live in northern Norway, falling into the open sea alone and unprepared usually means certain death. So I knew my brother (or anyone, for that matter) wouldn't search for me there.
After climbing and wandering over boulders, rocks, moss and bushes, I eventually found the most amazing spot that I'll never ever give anyone the directions to, unless I really, REALLY care for them.
I found a spot where there were tons of Cloudberries (for those who don't know what Cloudberries are, it's the tastiest berry available on the northern hemisphere, and typically really expensive in Norway for those who don't have the resources to look for them themselves), overlooking a tiny lagoon, of sorts. There was also some Rocky ground and boulders, which meant I could sit down without worrying about moisture. I'd bring blankets, thermoses of hot cocoa or coffee, snacks, etc. and sit there for hours, watching groups of Harbour porpoises swim by and great cormorants fly over my head, the gentle sound of the wind and seabirds filling the air. Sometimes the sound of rain hitting small bushes.
22-25, F
