Early morning, the air is filled with the sound of a city waking. Coffee is brewing, slowly. The sun finds its way through the branches of the trees in front of our house.
I am watching a documentary on the life of Tove Jansson. Artist, writer and creator of the Moomins. The stories of her life, told by family and friends, are woven together by images of Helsinki, Finland's countryside and the sea.
The images take me back. Thinking of Helsinki days gone by. Day dreaming of walking through the city, along the seaside, taking in every building, every island, that makes up the unique landscape of the Northern countries.
I want to hop on a plane. I want to walk and hear the for me familiar sound of Finnish and perhaps a bit of Swedish. I want to go to Suomenlinna. Sit on a rock and let the sea breeze clear my head.
Instead I sit on a balcony, overlooking a courtyard garden. From behind the buildings planes appear, just airborne, taking off to somewhere else. I can't help but wonder if one of them is Finland bound. If only I could throw out a line and hitch a ride, gliding through the sky on the wing of a big mechanical bird.
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