I hiked through the forest to a small hytta (cabin) next to a vann (lake).
Saetertjarnet.
No electricity.
Just a wood stove. Bunks. No running water.
Deep in the forest.
The only sounds are made by birds.
Coos. Trills. Warbles.
Grass and small trees grow out of the cabin's roof.
Peaceful.
This is a place to write.
This is a place to recover one's soul.
I have had a place like this in my mind for some time. Now I have been there for real.
Here in Norway I have seen they exist.
I think of Miss Snark here.
Quiet.
Satisfied.
She has done her work.
Let her rest.
Do not fill her with guilt by asking for more.
Accept what she has given.
Let her retreat to the hytta.
Deep in the forest.
And remember what was.
In Camelot.
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20 comments:
It's difficult though, isn't it? I checked her blog at least once a day, sometimes more often, like an irresistible lodestone one must touch. She drew the curtain back on the mysterious, intangible world of writers, writing, agents, and publishing, and made them real. Now she's withdrawn into the mists, not unlike King Arthur to his Avalon (I'm really laying it on thick here, aren't I?) leaving us wistful for what was. Besides, she made it okay to be snarky once in a while, when we could take the collective cluestick and bash some poor nitwit upside the head with it. Funny thing was, we were all nitwits at one time. No longer, thanks to Miss Snark. :)
Canwag.
I am starting a
PROUD TO HAVE BEEN A NITWIT club.
I'm a card carrying member.
Wanna join?
May I join too? She did such a great service for all of us. I will miss her terribly.
Count me in on the nitwit club, Pat.
Count me in, too! As a matter of fact, I'm STILL a nitwit... but I'm learning. Here's to Miss Snark!
Word ver: stfbmphs (something I did when spraying my beverage of choice out of my nose after reading Miss Snark's witticisms.)
What a great tribute -
I am going to miss reading her blog at least a dozen times a day. Even my husband and daughter know who Miss Snark is, and when I say Dear Dog, they no longer look at me as if I'm batty.
May I also join the PROUD TO HAVE BEEN A NITWIT club? Thanks to her, I think I've lost at least some of my nitwitlessness...
Erm.. that was supposed to be nitwitness... **sigh**
see - I'm in trouble already :)
Can I be Chief Nitwit?
M G I always consider you cheif nitiwt...
To antiwife...ladybronco...kim...canwag...I would be proud to be nitwitish among you...
Great! I'll meet you all down at the Nitwit's Lounge. We can throw back a few and sing snarky songs!
I miss her already!
I feel all attwittery
to admit to nitwittery
She was more than just bark
our darling Miss Snark.
Ok. Sign me up.
There's a ba here right?
There's ALWAYS a bar.
To nitwits everywhere!
Cheers! (And no, if you read my blog today, I am NOT still drinking Bump-and-runs!)
Tell your Norwegian friends that Alaska, which is on the same Latitude, has cabins like that one all over the place from the old trappers and goldminers' days.
Yes, very sad about Miss Snark, but she is leaving us her Archives and all the wisdom we've already stored up in our hearts.
Proud to Be a Nitwit Club? Hey, can I be the mascot?
:o)
Miss Snark will be missed. I can't believe it! I only heard this morning. **Devoted snarkling here**
NIce tribute.
A club? With a bar? I'm in.
I am a fully-qualified nitwit.
Me too please; definitely a nitwit - definitely in need of gin.
I'm joining the proud former nitwits, if it's all right. . .
Where do I sign up to join the nitwit club? Should we make a button to put on our blogs showing our membership? lol
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