Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
| Aggy and Jiggy were among those left to take inventory of who and what remained, thankful that all was not lost. Life went on for those left behind. With numbers reduced, they paired up to prepare for the oncoming cold their long-gone elders had warned them about. Everyone burrowed deep as temperatures dropped... and then rains... and a nip of frost. More were lost to the flood before Jeremy took pity, threw leaves on top and brought a tarp. It would keep them snug and warm till he and the sun returned after the coming ice and snow had melted. |