Of Summer and Dandelions
When I first arrived in Stockholm at the end of October last year, winter was about to set in. It was actually quite a late onset when compared to the bitter winters of the past couple of years.
Rather than the cold, what was most disturbing was the absence of daylight. The sun used to be out for rarely four to five precious hours of the day. You start for office in the morning, it is dark, you get out of office at evening, it is dark again. Having lived all my life in a country bathed in sunlight all through the year, it was quite difficult to cope with. It was actually quite depressing.
However, help was never far away. Lend your ear and you would most certainly hear a summer story.
Summer - the magic time in the lives of the Swedes. Glorious sunshine, crystal clear skies, budding leaves and blossoming flowers, long, balmy evenings, the all-pervasive white of the snow giving way to a vibgyor-like, spectacular burst of colors.
It was almost as if the Swedes would live through the winter in the hope of summer.
I would be reassured, time and again, that things would get infinitely better after those gloomy months of biting cold and almost constant darkness; and with that would come a gentle request - not to associate Sweden with just the dreary winters.
My most favorite summer story? On a dark, cold evening at a bus stop, the day before Christmas Eve, the most vivid imagery of summer was brought alive to me in these words:
'Summer in Sweden is beautiful. It is green all around and dandelions bloom right through the asphalt.'
Poetry? Well, almost.
Eight months later, I am living the Swedish summer. Thank you stranger.
Rather than the cold, what was most disturbing was the absence of daylight. The sun used to be out for rarely four to five precious hours of the day. You start for office in the morning, it is dark, you get out of office at evening, it is dark again. Having lived all my life in a country bathed in sunlight all through the year, it was quite difficult to cope with. It was actually quite depressing.
However, help was never far away. Lend your ear and you would most certainly hear a summer story.
Summer - the magic time in the lives of the Swedes. Glorious sunshine, crystal clear skies, budding leaves and blossoming flowers, long, balmy evenings, the all-pervasive white of the snow giving way to a vibgyor-like, spectacular burst of colors.
It was almost as if the Swedes would live through the winter in the hope of summer.
I would be reassured, time and again, that things would get infinitely better after those gloomy months of biting cold and almost constant darkness; and with that would come a gentle request - not to associate Sweden with just the dreary winters.
My most favorite summer story? On a dark, cold evening at a bus stop, the day before Christmas Eve, the most vivid imagery of summer was brought alive to me in these words:
'Summer in Sweden is beautiful. It is green all around and dandelions bloom right through the asphalt.'
Poetry? Well, almost.
Eight months later, I am living the Swedish summer. Thank you stranger.
Very well written. My experiences were similar during my stay in England. But you put it beautifully in words here for the ones who are yet to visit Europe. Your post reminds me of the glorious English summer, makes me wanna go back in time and relive it again!
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