This blue marble

– and yet it spins


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Leaving

lauttasaari-1Dear Lauttasaari island, you have been good to me. You have been my safe haven for years. A place to hide and to just stare at the (mostly windy) sea.

It is difficult to live in a landlocked place, away from the sea. I have done it twice and I will be doing it again. All three times have also been the three times I have lived abroad.

I have also lived in two relatively rainy, wet places: the UK and the Netherlands. Now I intend to try out another rainy (and this time windy, too) place: a little town in the middle of Denmark. For how long? For now.lauttasaari-2Dear Lauttasaari, I will miss your sea, sunshine, and the vast open space. The ships leaving for various Baltic port cities, and the sound of broken ice blocks floating on the water in spring.

But life plays out in seasons and no matter how well one plans, the beginning of the next season always comes with a twist. Growth does not take place when we feel comfortable and set in our routines. And so I intend to break my routines big time, hoping that growth will follow with equal measure.Larubynight(Helsinki, Finland; August 2018)


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Only ice

icewakesThis was Helsinki in mid-March, caught underneath the ever-swirling polar vortex of the winter and spring of 2018. The cruise liner looks like one that shuttles between Helsinki and Tallinn, the capital of Estonia. All cruise liners on the Baltic Sea are icebreakers, too. One has to dress according to weather, you see.

(Helsinki, Finland; March 2018)


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This is Finland – or some of it

finlandfactsThis is Finland – or some of it. We still have 75% of our land covered in forests. Nobody thinks of that as contributing to the “lungs of the planet”. Why is that, by the way?

Only last year I learned that it is uncommon for private people to be able to own forest. I sat around the table with some 25 Japanese, Chinese, and Korean business men – and watched their faces grow both amazed and thrilled as they heard that here most land is owned by average families. And private land means you can still walk through it, picking berries and mushrooms as you go, as long as you don’t camp or make a fire.

Nature belongs to all of us. It should be tended to by all of us. The great naturalist John Muir realized the implications of the great American private land ownership culture early enough, and bullied decision-makers to establish vast national parks like the Yosemite. So that people could still explore unknown lands without the fear of being shot by a protective land owner.

Here in Finland, we do things differently: we welcome anyone to enjoy our forests. My father’s forest has ski trails and is used by a hunting society. It’s all good – as long as our neighbors do not steal too many christmas trees.

(Photo source: Finnair Blue Wings magazine, winter 2018 issue)

(Helsinki, Finland; February 2018)


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Saturday afternoon, 2 pm

ice-1Nearly frozen water moves slower than summer water, viscous like icy cold schnapps in a glass. Yet it is warmer than the air: the rocks have white berets of ice on their heads. Even last year’s reed remains have puffy dresses of frozen seawater.

Winter is silent. Pensive. A little gloomy. And so am I, too, in January and February of most years.ice-2(Helsinki, Finland; January 2018)