Winter Entries
Well, I broke the promise I made at the end of my last blog in January. It’s been six months since and plenty has happened. My job took precedence, so the blog felt more like a chore than it had previously.
I did not stop writing. My notebook brims with entries that I hope to share over the next few weeks now that summer is upon us. This particular blog will serve as a reintroduction to our site for me. It feels good to be back.
I hope you find these entries from January and February worth reading.
Our New Neighborhood
A walk to Café Ursula along the sea in Eira. Jessica Stargardter
From early January:
Our new neighborhood, Punavuori, is an entirely different place from our old one. There is a cafe or bar on every block. Our local bar is across the street. Our local café is 100 meters down the block (now that we’re European I use meters 😉). Punavuori transforms our life from mostly at home to much more out-and-about.
Even when temperatures drop and we have to battle the weather, we are tempted to walk a few minutes down to the sea. Our most recent foray was to Café Ursula in Eira. We wound our way along the twisting shore in 25-mile-per-hour winds and snow. By the time we arrived, we were each covered in snow on the south-facing side of our bodies.
Those walks — the ones where you brave the elements — are often the best ones. The coffee at the end tastes better than ever. It’s raining ice right now… I think I’ll go down to the sea.
Reflections on Ukraine from a Sea Fortress
From late February:
I am perched precariously beneath a bridge watching ice ebb and flow in the water by my feet. It does not move exactly like water. It sort of splices together and unsplices as each wave recedes.
A sketch from my notebook of Suomenlinna. Jon Hull
I left my winter hat on this island, Suomenlinna, yesterday. It is an old sea fortress plunked down by the Swedes, taken by the Russians, and eventually occupied by the Finns. Now, it is a place tourists visit when the weather gets nice.
Putin invaded Ukraine a few days ago, and an old fortress feels like the right place to jot down some thoughts about it all. It is an hour until the next ferry and most of the benches are covered in ice. That is how I ended up sitting on a rock under this bridge watching the semi-frozen Baltic.
At first, I was annoyed by the chorus of voices adding platitudes to their social media feeds.
WAR IS WRONG
My, what a brave stand you’ve taken. I guess it is clear that it still bothers me a bit. I don’t know. Maybe that is better than doing nothing. I suppose I feel the need to express my thoughts about it, just not on a social media feed.
This war feels different than others during my life. I cannot isolate why. It is the first time I’ve lived in a moment where it feels like the conflict could break out directly in our region. Has my perspective changed from spending a few months living in Europe? Am I just old enough to be interested or mature enough to care?
Regardless, I wonder how this war will look in the annals of history: A small blip? The first domino? A major moment?
It feels crass to reduce the suffering of people to an intellectual big picture view, but — for all of humanity’s sake — I hope this is a small blip.
Related
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Check out Jessica’s photos page. There are tons of photos up from the past few months.