Ash and flow

Yesterday we (’we’ being my mother, my aunt and I) spent the entire day cleaning up the ruins of our summer house. Basically that meant sifting through a huge pile of coal and ash trying to separate all the metal, combustible waste and asbestos (it was an old house, thus the asbestos). In some very odd way I rather enjoyed the work; the weather was nice, the lake was beautiful and I didn’t even mind all the ash eating into my skin, clothes and lungs.  However, the best part of the day followed after the scouring. (Yes, I’m using the word ’scour’ intentionally.)

Swimming. That was the one thing that really made my day and actually was the very best thing about the whole summer thus far. Yesterday was the first time I’ve been to the lake this year and despite the sentimental undertone I swear there is no other lake like that one. There is something deeply soothing and enchanting about that place and it always gives me an extraordinary feeling I’ve never felt in any other place. I’m not really capable of explaining how I feel when rowing or swimming in that lake or just sitting on the rocks and looking over the water. It’s a weird mixture of happiness, tranquility, energy, wistfulness and something I have no word for.

I reached that feeling again yesterday evening as I was floating with my eyes closed and arms stretched, just listening to the water. All of a sudden I felt as if there were no thoughts left in my head, something that is really alien to me. I was either perfectly aware or not aware at all. (Even though the logical impossibility of that slightly annoys me; sometimes I have odd feelings that are complete opposites and yet precisely similar at the same time, I have no idea how to make that understandable. It sort of feels like having two things so far from each other that they actually start to seem close. I don’t know, I guess I’m not making any sense – and perhaps it’s not even necessary to.)

I think I'll add some pictures later once I manage to get them out of my camera (which not playing nicely with the computer at the moment).

Midsummer's Eve

I’m not such a big fan of parties, holidays and festivals but I do love Midsummer’s Eve. In Finland it is celebrated around summer solstice and even though the Catholic church associated it with John the Baptist at the beginning of the 5th century the traditions originating from Finnish pagan mythology and folklore are much stronger. Midsummer (or juhannus, in Finnish) isn’t really concidered a Christian festivity at all. Personally I find the folklore­ related feast very fascinating since it includes all kinds of ancient beliefs and spells. I’ve listed some of my favorite traditions that in my opinion are wonderful ways to honour Finland’s nightless and magical summer (which is quite cold and rainy right now but never mind that).

(It's not a bonfire, just a campfire. Just for clarity's sake.)

1)    Midsummer bonfire Bonfires are lit all around Finland throughout Midsummer night. Originally their purpose was to repel malicious spirits but they’ve also been associated with heliotheism. Fire can be set on shores or beaches but the most beautiful ones are floating on water: a ferry laden with wood can be set on fire and then launched. Flaming beacons in the middle of a quiet, dim lake slowly getting veiled by nightly mist look like a myth made real.

2)    Midsummer magic Yes, there are still quite a lot of people in Finland who practice a little magic every Midsummer’s Eve ­– including me. To be honest the charms are just for fun and most of them are performed in order to avail romantic intentions. To me the purpose of the charms isn’t the very point; I try to keep the traditions alive for my part and the idea of wandering in the lovely smelling forests and meadows collecting flowers the same way people used to do centuries ago is very enchanting. On the other hand I think charms are after all quite useless at Midsummer’s Eve, the night that already is full of magic by its very nature. Not that I’d actually believe in magic, I concider myself rather rational (at least 364 days a year).

3)    Stories As I’ve mentioned earlier I’m deeply in love with Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Midsummer seems to be an endless source for stories about fairies and curious events ­– no wonder why. When it comes to Finnish literature my absolute favourite is Tove Jansson’s Moominsummer Madness (The Swedish and Finnish names are so much better though).

Those are a few of my favourite things about the night at hand. I was planning to not to complain about no longer having a summer house but I think I’ll do it anyway. I’d like to sit on the porch and stare over the darkening lake; I’d like to go for a late night swim when it’s so quiet you can hear the world breathing; I’d like to read or perhaps write something in a drifting boat. However, it doesn’t make any sense to ponder that now – the summer house burned down after being hit by a lightning and there is no way to remedy that.

I bet it was quite a bonfire.