I do tend to wax eloquent about Sweden. It’s beautiful. And when you’re visiting, it’s easy to see what works and not what doesn’t. There’s loads to write about what doesn’t… And I will eventually, when I get home and I’m doing more than just hanging out in the beauty.
But oh, the Beauty. And as I’ve said, it’s not just the beauty but the fact that people take time to enjoy it. So here’s this beautiful little chapel with all sorts of odd instruments and old church altar implements turned museums. So many of the churches here have lots more people visiting the beautiful antiquities than they do people worshiping.
Being happy in your friends’ company also tends to make the lens softer. So there we were, riding out to visit some of their past, some of which i share, on a day when the sun was dancing in and out of the clouds. We’d have a quick shower and then it would pour in the shining sun, and then it was just a simple breezy sunlit day again. Summer in Sweden. The hay fields were newly mown and there were these huge round bales waiting to be wrapped in plastic for the winter. It’s damp here, so the trees are green and gardens are fertile. The houses are dark red or gold with sparkling windows trimmed in white.
Really, it’s sort of storybookish. And that’s ok with me. It’s a Peace that claims the land and then fills us. Any different than the Peace we’re flooded with when you drive to Penn State along those farm-filled Valleys? Not at all. It’s simply a different landscape. This one has claimed a piece of my heart. And isn’t that grand. The Peace will be here long after I leave, this time and forever.