Monday, June 23, 2008

As I read the NYT this weekend, I could not help but notice the article "Longest Day of the Year; Few Notice." The title caught my eye because we are in the midst of celebrating a holiday here in Estonia that you cannot help but not notice. Jaanipäev, or the celebration of midsummer on St. John's Day, is one of the most awaited holidays of the year. Estonians escape to their forest cottages to meet with friends and family, build bonfires, and spend the night eating and drinking together. And why not celebrate when you have days this long? Meteorologists say that we will have 20h 53m of light in which to gather around the fire this evening. I will head out in a couple of hours to a cottage near Rakvere to start learning about this Estonian tradition first-hand.

Happy Jannipäev and enjoy the long midsummer nights!

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Not bogged down



Nothing makes you more relaxed in Estonia than some countryside tourism with fresh, clean air and the quiet landscape. I escaped from Tartu to a friend's quiet home in the forest for a picnic on Saturday before moving onto the pretty coastal area of Lake Peipsi, the large lake border between Estonia and Russia.





I enjoyed eating ripe Estonian tomatoes and locally caught and smoked fish, sweating out any worries in a country sauna, and walking through the boggy marshland on the coast.



I couldn't help but let go of any worries and appreciate the moments for their tranquility. Ah! The beauty of the cool light drifting over the forest filled with singing birds and hoards of buzzing mosquitoes... This simplicity is what Estonian summers are all about.

Friday, June 06, 2008

Stockholm

striking waterlines, fish, marathon, old ships, water boats, lilacs, design, cosmopolitan, old town cafe, long days, sun, Prince Eugene, palaces, churches, ice cream, museums, talkative laughing friends, ... a summer weekend in Stockholm.


What is that noise encircling our home?

Screeching around our home, the cicadas that come with the onset of the rainy season sound like an army of broken hard drives droning in fr...