When I was a child, I used to spend my summers in the city. Our family hadn’t a summer place. I didn’t have grandmothers or grandfathers living in the country. I was a city-girl. Country-living seemed strange and the mere thought of leaving the city for the summer was funny.
To leave for the country was to spend time in a place where there was nothing to do! That was my thought.
I saw my first living cow, when I was 21 years old, and they say it is a miracle, or at least extraordinary: to live and grow up in Finland without knowing the smell of hay and the feeling of a cow’s smooth side under your finger tips.
I managed to grow up anyway, maybe remaining a little odd and bizarre, who knows. Nowadays I spend my summers on an island and the scent of leaves swarm around me as I lie in the grass and look at the blue sky.
I can’t stay in the city when it’s summertime. There is too much to do and I want my peace after the busy winter and spring.
I’ve become a country-girl, well, maybe not exactly a girl anymore, but anyhow.
Everything is possible. Maybe I’ll someday even touch a cow.
(the house in the photo is just some house I once passed by)