I’ve taken a look at my blog for the first time in a very long time. The past six months have been dominated by working on the JacanaPress.com blog featuring my husband Kent’s book. If you look there, you’ll find glimpses of what we’ve been up to, including six intense weeks of travel through Scandinavia in December.
“Why go in the winter?” I’ve been asked. Here is my reply:
Scandinavia is where my ancestors lived 150 years ago and for centuries before that.
Why in winter? I had a checklist: (1) I wanted a challenge and a bit of an adventure, (2) I wanted to avoid crowds and the high prices of the summer season, (3) I wanted to see the aurora borealis, (4) winter and snow bring back memories of my Upper Michigan childhood, (5) snow is beautiful, (6) I wanted to celebrate Christmas with relatives in Sweden and enjoy the Christmas lights and festivities, (7) our grandchildren were going to be elsewhere.
I loved the Polar Night when the day was four of five hours of twilight with the sun lurking below the horizon. I missed the sun, though, and on Santa Lucia Day, December 13, we crossed the Arctic Circle again heading south. I waited with anticipation aboard the ship (Hurtigruten’s Polarlys) for the sun to hit a high peak. My heart leaped up when I saw the first pink light hit the triangular peak I’d been watching. ”Thank you, God, thank you, Sun, for being there!” I was deeply moved. The Polar Night was beautiful, but what if I never saw the sun again?
We arrived home after our travels to face a pile of mail we still haven’t quite gotten through, repairs of things falling apart in the house (I think it missed us), preparing Kent’s lecture, “Escape to Sea: Dreams and Realities” for Oasis (it was well-received), and all the other busy activities that keep us from taking much-needed long walks.
Caminobleu 