“I love it when the sun stains the sky and the sea, when the mist drapes itself just above the swamp, when the lingonberries turn red in the lichen.

I love the scent of the pine forest, the firmness of each hefty tree, the flames licking the wood under the soot pan coffee.

I dream of a sail, a wooden house and a perched rooster. I look forward to cranberries and frosty snowflakes. Especially the Summer with toes buried in the beach sand.

I respect the storm, the streaks drawn by the ice age left in rock, and the tangible soul of a pine trunk.

I understand that. ”