Magical white night duets

I fired away a couple of high pitch phrases. And someone responded. A dialog followed. And a couple of days later it happened again. With a different responder.  Today I want to share with you moments of magical nightly meetings.

I had been celebrating Midsummer’s Eve with my extended family over at Norrbyskär, an island just off the coast half an hour south of Umeå. Back home, happy from a nice day, I stepped out on my front yard to say goodnight to my little Queendom here at the end of the road. The sun had set at 11.09 PM and would take a brief recess until 2.48 AM. Now it was 1.30.

I sang a little tune to the light night. These magic white nights unexplainable to anyone who hasn’t experienced them. So, I hummed my tune. I put a bit more power behind it but didn’t want to wake anyone up. Back in the day when women called for the cows to come home in the evenings they used a special technique which makes the sound travel far over the hills. I can’t say I know this special way of communicating, but I am pretending…

Anyway, singing my fake cow call suddenly a bird yelled out. I had frightened the pour thing, I thought. That didn’t stop me though, and at the next scream back I realized there was a crane down at the field east of my house. We did a back and forth for a while, and it was extra special as he/she was so close. What a way to end a Midsummer’s Eve! Or more right, to start the Midsummer Day.

Some days later I did my usual evening routine. Bidding my goodnight to the green surroundings on which I am the third generation. I stood on my front porch singing a little song to nature. And nature responded. In the sweetest way you could ever imagine.

This was not a cow call. This was a quite improvised summer tune. On the first four bars a blackbird came flying, landing in my father’s pine tree separating the yard from the fields to the west. How wonderful!

But that was just the start! Because in the white night we sang a duet together! I sang a few bars and the blackbird followed me. A few bars more and it sang me an encore. And again and again and again! We kept on going until he/she either was bored with my tune or decided there was better ways to spend the night. Maybe time to feed the kids. I guess even a blackbird has to put the babies before singing.

I know this story sounds fabricated. Or wishful thinking. But just the way that bird flew in and landed in the three. Like I had been calling for it. He/she must have heard something that sounded interesting, the way people gravitates to free live music in a summer park. And the presence in our improvised concert. I swear, it was real. 

I wish I could add that those nights were warm and soft against my bare skin. Nope. The northern Swedish summer has this far been… a northern Swedish summer. Even if the sun is out, there is a gale coming down from the North Pole driving me crazy. Today I’ve been sitting outside in my fleece AND down coat wrapped in a blanket, just to get some hazed sun to fill my vitamin D storage. 15°C/59°F and strong northern winds, later 5°C cooler and rain. 

Weather-wise May and June are on a low, but white night concerts with a crane and a blackbird makes the pre-summer rise to unforgettable.