early april in Trondheim.

I’m sitting on a black state sponsored double decker bus - because the railways have been privatized by the previous conservative government.

It’s 17 o’clock and theres still some sunlight left. It’s spring, but the plants didn’t get the memo.

The trees do not have leaves.

They look like giant old brooms that poke up from the ground. The branches look like upside down roots.

We’re driving past fields.

I say “we”, but I’m actually not helping at all. This ride is NOT a team effort AT ALL. The driver deserves all the credit.

The fields are still bare from the winter.

The grass isn’t even green yet, and neither are the crops. The texture of the grass looks like old, dried, blonde hair. If Trump went bald, he could make a very believable toupée out of these tusks of grass.

This time of year is excellent for gravel collectors.

Were in the stage where the ice and snow has melted, but large amounts of gravel remains on the ground.

That’s right: if you enjoy picking up and collecting vast amounts of small pebbles made of granite, then this is basically your favourite time of the year.

However, you must be swift:

The municipality will hire someone to drive around in a small, golf cart sized vessel, with a giant rotating brush that collects all of the tiny little rocks.

The small piles of gravel on parking lots and street corners will hopefully be completely removed soon.

And the grass will soon be green.

And the trees will soon have leaves.

And i will soon be complaining about heat.