Spring came late to Sweden this year. March was cold and snowy, and the weather did not turn until the last few days.
And then, today, we beheld glory. Sun and blue sky and air so warm that I sat by a sandbox with NK in only a t-shirt.
Suddenly our apartment is less tiny – both because we opened the balcony door and NK spent an hour looking for a missing imaginary tractor as she peered over the railing and because we could rediscover our park across the street, the park with two playgrounds, a wooded hill, a labryinth and a garden behind an 18th century house turned museum.
This is life in the north, where the winter is so long you forget what you have. And the sun and spring so welcome (if totally unreliable, it could snow later this week, for all I know) that you are lifted higher than anywhere else I know.
There is also the panic to get out into the sun, the inability to stay in the apartment and just rest. That is a very Swedish anxiety.
But let us forget that for now. The sun came out. A toddler did not go stir crazy. A new mother got to soak up the sun. A baby slept more soundly in the fresh air.
And Daddy got to build a sand castle in his t-shirt.