This morning, early, I went out before breakfast, ran barefoot on the grass to the neighbours’ garden (which I’m taking care of) to pick red currant for my porridge. It was coldish, grey, very windy. But somehow still really beautiful to dash across the garden. It reminded me of my first swedish summers, at the forest by the lake, of when it was a bit cold but I would run barefoot in shorts to pick berries for breakfast. Those summers that made me discover Sweden and fall in love with it.
The clouds in the sky are so dark that it seems like it’s going to explode; I feel the pressure above me, an enormous power.
When the sky is cloudy the sea in Stockholm is so dark, almost black.
I look at the black waters, at the too tall buildings still sticking out in the distance, and I try to fully understand that this is my home.
regnet skulle ösa ned, en ocean skulle släppas lös från himlen
macedoniadifrutta 