Today I am visiting friends in the Swedish countryside about 100 Km north of Stockholm. They have a summer cottage by a lake, surrounded by trees all around. It is eery how similar this region is to the place in upstate New York where my parents used to take us in summer, the source of so many happy childhood memories.
The view of the lake brings me back to those times, from the geese who sail serenely along, to the delicate layer of white mist floating just above the water. Even the birch and oak trees look the same.
And of course there is a peaceful sense of quiet for miles around, so far away from the noise and bustle of the city.
But one thing is very different — the light. The sun here does not set until after 10pm, far later than in New York. At sunset, the angle of the sun makes for a beautiful but (to my eyes) eery light, with deep streaks of red arcing through the clouds and reflecting off the rippling surface of the lake.
It’s like seeing my childhood summer memories brought back to life under a new sky.