As temperatures have quietly begun to creep above freezing over the past few weeks, with the sun's rays illuminating the land for longer hours every day, it's starting to come alive in a truly beautiful way. I hear the returning migratory birds twittering animatedly in the trees while I wait for the bus into town. The ice on the Aura River, which just a few short weeks ago was strong enough for people to skate on with ease, has vanished and given way to swiftly moving murky water. The melting snow and ice reveal smooth tracts of grass that grow green in the sun's rays, and the buds on the trees wait on baited breath to burst forth as it gets warmer. It's already so light out for so long (until 8:50 pm and getting later every day), approaching the amounts of daylight typical around the solstice in the parts for the US that I inhabit, magical pastel twilights lingering invitingly. Locals's so-called "summer personalities" are coming out full force, with people finally shedding their heavy winter coats and related accessories, sitting out in the sun along the shores of the river and running or walking outside increasingly later to enjoy the long-awaited sunlight for longer and longer every day.
Spring has officially sprung.
One of the most difficult things about this year has been adjusting to the excessive darkness of fall, winter, and early spring in places as far north as Russia and Finland are. It's something that you always hear about in references and stereotypes, but it's a very different thing to actually live it, and to feel the full effects that it can have on your body and mind. When I first arrived in Finland, being spoiled after nearly three weeks of pretty plentiful sun in Italy over the holidays, I was initially quite distraught, and my Alaskan friend Sarah assured me that, coming from a place with similar seasonal variation in weather and light, coming in the spring would be more than worth it to watch eighteen hours a day of darkness transform to eighteen hours a day of light. And even though we've not yet reached the latter, I can already tell she was right.
Spring has officially sprung.
One of the most difficult things about this year has been adjusting to the excessive darkness of fall, winter, and early spring in places as far north as Russia and Finland are. It's something that you always hear about in references and stereotypes, but it's a very different thing to actually live it, and to feel the full effects that it can have on your body and mind. When I first arrived in Finland, being spoiled after nearly three weeks of pretty plentiful sun in Italy over the holidays, I was initially quite distraught, and my Alaskan friend Sarah assured me that, coming from a place with similar seasonal variation in weather and light, coming in the spring would be more than worth it to watch eighteen hours a day of darkness transform to eighteen hours a day of light. And even though we've not yet reached the latter, I can already tell she was right.
A great Swedish song.
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