Moving on

The middle of the night wake up and bury my frozen face back into a warmer blankets have been still alive and well. Cold nights and even colder mornings stayed unrelenting, but hot coffees with breakfast had never felt better in my hands.

These final days were full of walks around dirt roads nestled tightly into nature and time spent deep in the forest. Violent wind, rain and thunderstorms blew through both by day and night. I woke often to the comforting sound of the fire being stoked, which led to brief moments of bliss seeing beautiful twilight skies and sunrises for the few seconds I could keep my eyes open before falling back asleep. A late evening in front of Canadian football, America’s Got Talent, or HGTV was never passed on.

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“It’s the sunset after a storm blows through kind of crap.”

This was a time of more than one ending, where winds constantly blew to bring so many things together. Photography, books, sleep, baking, so much about nature and all which can be translated from ‘hygge’ have been everything for me.

I wish I could give this to you in larger format, because the light on the train across the lake is so spectacular.

The simple things

There is just something so perfect here. And I know you maybe tell me about the clothes drying all crunchy instead of soft from the dryer machine, but this smell of nature in your laundry, the feeling of the clothes after… You cannot find that from any other way. The smell and the sunlight, the way they blow in the breeze. It’s part of the simplest pleasures and more countryside life for me.
How I would love a little light wood floored and white interior, red exterior countryside home on some forested land with a small garden, and of course my clothesline to use from +30° to -30°.

Heightened senses and the unrelenting perfection of nature

Warm days in passing sunshine have given way to consistently cold nights. Being woken up in the middle of the night to pounding rain on the metal roof or strong winds blowing through the birch forests, rolling over and feeling my cold nose and toes is quintessentially this cabin for me. Isn’t it just the ultimate cosiness to feel that cold and curl up harder, pulling the blanket right up to your face and tucking it under your feet at the other end?

Mornings begin in that uncomfortable minute between coming out from the covers in my pyjamas to sitting in front of the lighted wood stove downstairs. Coffee and home baked cinnamon rolls follow.

Late evening walks and floats on the lake, both by paddle and gas motor, have showcased nature in truly special ways. The smells of the forests here are something that can never ever, ever fully be understood and appreciated without being experienced. It is truly divine.

So while I still strongly crave those endless hours of sleep, this is the beginning that I very much needed.

Perfect afternoon fika

Slowing down, sleepless nights, and a meaningful miracle at the end of a few thousand kilometres

A hyggelig day

The day before I would drive several thousand kilometres, I spent hours outside in a misty day, brushing against wet leaves feeling water droplets run down my hands, slowly picking berries from bushes. I don’t know what can be a more perfect fall day feeling. It was sleepy, quiet, but conscious and appreciating. My love of the warm oven and cosy smells all day, the fresh berries, the mess of dishes and doughs, the lighted candlesticks inside, has never been more. It’s hard to imagine it more perfect in some ways.

Vetebullar

Fyriskaka

The nights before a some 2,500 kilometre drive should have been all early bedtimes and long, sound sleeps.
I really tried to let it be so, but those nights were about the total opposite. My drive was slow, interrupted often for wildlife, photography, fika, an emergency deodorant run, and naps in the back of the car - all what a road trip should be.

The little heart cloud preceding an incredible thunder and lightning storm was somehow real, and deeply appreciated <3

For now, I hide away at a quiet cabin hundreds of kilometres further away still, endlessly craving infinite hours of sleep, but I see you again soon.

Coffee and crowberries

The wind today howled. The type of gusts that make you wish to spread your arms and just let it carry you half a step backward while the trees of the forest around give some loud creaking noises.

It was the most perfect afternoon to sit quietly with a warm coffee, pick at small bushes of ripening crowberries and watch the wind whip up water across a small lake.