Or maybe it’s just my radiator pipes that are singing again
I grew up in the south of Norway, in a white wodden house with a view to the sea.
The lighthouse flashed the walls every thirty seconds at bedtime.
I never heard the fog watch, it must’ve stopped years before.
Only one of the two tall lighthouses, out there in the shoreside bay, were lit.
Last time there the flashes had all gone, and now my parents are selling the house.