Sindre, the spray of sparks

Sindre, from Old Norse 'sindr' meaning 'spark' (from which we get 'cinder'), named after the inspired blacksmith who crafted Thor's famous hammer, was the live spark of the reunion: an indefatigable swimmer, an inextinguishable light, an electrifyingly clever kid. If the whole Villa Lucia experience was about reconnecting with our teenage selves, racing endlessly up and down the pool with Sindre was to reconnect with my tadpole years, when I still swam faster and freer below water than above.

Cat, dog, frog, butterfly, kangaroo - the challenge was to get to the other side first in as varied a menagerie of strokes as possible, first being the operative word. Though words were few between us, as Sindre is an expert in Norwegian and Russian, which I, alas, am not. To the many animal names he has learnt in English, I have learnt only one word in Norwegian: 'uavgjort', which literally means 'undecided', but is used in a photo-finish or dead-heat. Funnily enough, I suspect this young conqueror  doesn't know its meaning in his own language: the concept of sharing victory when on a mission to vanquish being far too alien and quite irrelevant!

So here, my little man, the undisputed champion of Villa Lucia's paddling pool, is a poem about a man whom I know you look up to. Can you, bright spark and clean-lined water dart, explain to us adults why we never seem to vanquish our shadows?

Uavgjort 

Harald takes on his shadow

mid-afternoon in Montevettolini.

The sun leans forward

smiles indulgently;  

sweat sparkles on Harald's brow.

Harald takes on his shadow

mid-afternoon, against the city wall.

The sun throws back his head

laughs uproariously; 

sweat flies from Harald's brow.

Harald takes on his shadow, 

back and forth, back and forth to victory.

Now he wins by a hair's breadth

now he loses by even less –

despite the sweat that streams from his decided brow.