It is called the ghost dagis (Dagis is the Swedish word for preschool. It is in our neighborhood, and it was condemned soon after we moved in. For a while, the municipality mowed the lawn, and we played in its private, though decaying yard. And sometimes other preschools would go there to play too, with the sounds of children echoing from behind the empty fence.
Then they let it go, and it got lost behind its big fence and between its stately neighbors.
We never heard any ghosts there, though.
They took down the ghost dagis these past few weeks, and I have been oddly fascinated, taking random, bad pictures with my phone, as the ghosts fly into the gray winter sky.
Salvaging details …