Let there be light!

Sunrise from the boat. Usually the mornings announce themselves by gradually going from pitch black nighttime to a lightening, but still dull, gray. Yesterday morning we had a rare, pink sunrise.

As I was scrolling through my camera roll looking for pictures to add to this blog post, I saw a pattern. Rocks. Or houses. Or rocks and houses. And water, of course. 

Standing on the northwest end of the island, looking south.

Standing on the road just above where we are docked. If you look carefully, you can see the Christmas lights on Positive Waves. To the left of the picture, a small triangle of white lights.

 

Smögen is an astonishing little island. I can run from one end to the other in less than 30 minutes and as I'm running I can usually look in one direction and see houses jumbled together with seemingly no order or plan; or, I can look in the other direction and only see rocks and water. There is decidedly no sprawl here--the houses are clustered together, presumably to protect each other from the harsh winter winds and I also imagine to ease the development of utilities like water, sewer, and electric. They are not clustered on a grid, but rather seem to be dropped willly-nilly, which definitely lends a certain quaintness to the town. Winding cobblestone streets, paths, secret staircases, and little bridges criss-cross the town. When I wander around the neighborhoods, I'm never certain exactly where I'll end up.

Houses are built right up to the edge of the rocks.

Yes, Vikinggatan (Viking Street!)

 On the other hand, I can leave the boat and wander south or west and scramble over the rocks along walking trails of sorts. There are little wooden sticks that are painted white on their points marking trails across the rocky peninsulas. Most of the trails end at a peak, affording a 360 degree view of the island, the sea, and Kungshamn to the east. It is spectacularly beautiful--a little island utopia in Scandinavia.

Inventorying all the spares and maintenance parts aboard PW.

We've been getting into the Christmas spirit here--decorating the boat inside and out, making (and eating) cookies, watching Christmas movies, etc. We've also been watching Swedish television's annual "Julkalendar," a daily show from December 1st to December 24th. It's a Christmas themed, family-friendly, kid-centered TV drama that is new every year and a 13 minute segment is released every day. This year's story is based on time travel between 1920 and 2020 and we are all hooked; it's the first thing the kids want to do when they come home from school. Matilda has a paper advent calendar based on the TV show that she opens every morning. (Along with her chocolate advent calendar, of course.) The one annual tradition we have not done this year is Christmas cards. It's my first year in at least ten that I haven't sent out cards. Time is not the excuse, I have plenty of that. I think it's just being out of the States and being on a new routine, in a new home, around different traditions, and I didn't think about Christmas cards.

 

The elementary school here had their annual Lucia celebration on Monday. The kids all wore something suitable for Lucia--white gowns with a wreath of candles, or a gingerbread costume, or a santa costume--and sang traditional Lucia songs outside of the school. This video was around 8:30 in the morning, so you can see how dark it is! Matilda is in the back row, 2nd from the right wearing her green jacket and blue hat, and Freja is in the second row, pretty much in the middle, wearing a red jacket.

 

This is part of the kids' walk to school. It's reported that Matilda gets tired at this point and needs to rest on the seal before continuing. Which is why the walk can take anywhere from 3-10 minutes.

 We've hit the darkest time of the year and it is intense. The "sun" rises around 9AM, although we literally haven't seen the sun for weeks. Every day is a variation of gray, rain, drizzle, and wind. Sunset is around 3:30 in the afternoon, and the days are still getting shorter and shorter. There is a reason Swedes love candles so much! Almost every house has a light on the windowsill, and in the Christmas season it is common to see illuminated paper stars in the windows, and of course lots of lights on inside the houses. Curtains are very uncommon in Sweden, and without curtains obstructing the light, all the interior light shines out into the streets, spreading the cozy, twinkling lights into the neighborhood. 

Our elf, Snowflake, has returned for her annual visit. She has quite the sweet tooth and has a habit of getting into all the goodies.

Hans returned home from his two-week work stint in Wisconsin last week. He's been home for a week now and so far seems Covid-free, or at least hasn't exhibited any symptoms, so we're feeling healthy and lucky. We feel privileged and safe on this little island that we're calling home for now, but it's hard to ignore the global pandemic. While it hasn't affected me personally, I'm finding it hard to fully embrace the Christmas season this year with my usual optimism, joy, and promise of hope for the future. It's hard to ignore the vast numbers of people that are sick and dying from Covid, and the ripple affects of each case. I feel far removed from the pandemic, but there is still a pervasive heavy feeling in their air. I am going into Christmas 2020 feeling extremely grateful for my health and the health of my family, thankful that my family here in Sweden and in the US is taking this pandemic seriously and being careful, and hoping that we enter 2021 with light and promise, and, most importantly, widespread and effective vaccine distribution.