Friday, 27 November 2009

Island Style- Sweden

The bus leaves Slussen at 12.05, I've slept too long. Should've gotten out there earlier, well the sun only did come up at 9, but still, it's already, or maybe still- low on the horizon. We drive over Danvikstull, I look over the side of the bridge, remembering summer days next to the water, throwing boule and drinking beer. Neverending sunlight. Nobody there now.

I've put Arvo Pärts Spiegel im Spiegel on repeat in my iPod, and I live this film of muted Autumn colours, glassy ice cold lakes... 40 minutes later I jump off at Brunn, the final stop for the bus. Stina careers around a corner in a small borrowed car and I jump in. She's wearing gumboots, I'm so happy. It's like seeing myself again after a long time, I guess that's how it is in a way, our closest friends are like safeboxes, we keep parts of ourselves safely locked up in them.

The roads get smaller and smaller, no more tar here, forests all around us, the distances between the houses get bigger. We park the car, Stina half-hides the key in it's half-hidden hiding place, this is an island... a safe place, so hidden, no need to hide.

We walk along the ever narrowing road, until it's more or less a path, and where it ends... is Stina's house. A small perfect wooden house with great big glass windows looking out over the baltic sea. There's a large wooden deck and a view that stops the clock...

Stina's lively brown Kelpy-dog Disa is overjoyed to see us, so we make a quick cup of coffee, and start walking.

There are scraggly bushes on the hill around the house, we make our own path to the long wooden staircase down to the sea. Majestic old oak trees stand naked on the hillside, moss covers the granite rocks scattering the slope.

The small beach is deserted, seaweed lying in heaps on the sand. The wooden jetty juts out into the sea, the echoes of summer swimmers laughing and jumping still hanging in the air. It is dead quiet.

It's 2 o'clock and the sun is low on the horizon.

We play on the jetty, throwing sticks for Disa, looking down into the crystal freezing water. Not even I feel like swimming.

Today the sea is not calling my name... or maybe I'm just not listening...


  1. oh wow - dit klink heerlik!! :-)

  2. so so beautiful, thank you!

  3. Carla is right, that does sound wonderful... Arvo Pärt is the perfect soundtrack to your northern film. (Try Gorecki next - you will love him...)