Embracing fall

Last night I cautiously sat the match to the paper. Watching it burn really slowly.  No flakes up the chimney. 

Normally I burn waste paper and cardboard in the kitchen fire place. It’s a good thing not having to drag all that to the recycling station. But due to the drought and heat this summer I haven’t used the fire place since late April. Instead, beneath it a big bag filling up quickly.

But now the rains are here. They have occurred the last couple of weeks, still I have waited. Until last night. And today. The bag is now empty and removed. Feels good.

Normally The Return of The Fall gives me panic. For real. It throws me into a storm of anxiety, shivering and hatred of all the cloths I must put on as a shield towards the cold. Not to mention the dark. Here to stay for forever it feels like. Every year the same. I feel like I won’t survive the dark ages of the winter season. I do, of course, but barely.

To my surprise this year feels different. Although there is the regular shiver it is like my body remembers the warmth it’s been embraced with for months. My skin is still soft from sun protection and after sun lotions. 

And I am not disturbed by the darkening evenings. In fact, I enjoy turning the light on in the evening. Outside and inside. Outside the spotlights are making magic in my garden. And inside they are turning my home cozy as I tuck myself in under the blanket on my couch. 

I feel a contentment. I think, for the first time on the 64th latitude, my body battery is charged to the brim. And my mind and soul filled with maximum sun light. My summer has been a good one. A long sun vacation in the recliner at my west wall, brushed by the cherry trees. An afternoon visit at my beloved aunt Barbro in her cabin by the sea. A couple of socials in my garden. And a city shopping weekend (a brief Friday and Sunday afternoon) at the Umeå malls. Even returning to the house with a fancy bag containing a gorgeous dress. I really felt like I had been abroad.   

Contentment and gratitude. Now it’s time to light the fires. And to take on the Elections.

We prepare for what we know

- “29°C (84°F) was the warmest temperature in the country yesterday, and that is the end of the high-summer. From today the air will be cool and low pressures are building up from the west. I need to stress though how the risk for wild fires are still serious in the southern parts of the country and at the coast of Northern Sweden.”

It was the Swedish National Radio meteorologist announcing the forecast. And yes, it definitely feels like fall. And in only three weeks time it is the general elections in Sweden.

The extreme temperatures and wild fires in a way we’ve never seen before, have of course sailed up to the top on the political agenda. The different parties are doing their blame game on the question why we weren't prepared for such fires and why Sweden don’t have a plan of action when it comes to heat waves. 

There is a simple answer to that. It’s because it’s new to us. Yes, we had a big wild fire in 2014, and it brought us to the attention. And we have had heat waves before, but rarely more than one or two weeks at the time and never with such extreme temperatures. And, of course 3,5 months as has been the case in the southern parts of Sweden this summer is unprecedented. 

This last spring a folder landed in our mail boxes. “If Crisis or War Comes”. I remember a similar one from my cold war childhood. Pencil illustrations and easy to read information, the same feel to it. The folder got quiet a lot of attention abroad: is Sweden preparing for being attacked? And newly arrived refugees were scared by the drawings of military equipment and soldiers. Are we not safe here either?

You could claim we were naive disarming the defence when the Berlin Wall fell and the Cold War was over. In 2018 it certainly feels that way. But you could also argue we were hopeful and optimistic. The threats were gone. Our skinny country wasn’t squeezed in-between Nato and the Soviet Union any more. Finally the world had turned to a better place. Humanity had grown mature and wise and it looked like Sweden did never again need a national defence. 

But that’s just one part of the folder If Crises or War Comes which was produced by MSB, The Swedish Civil Contingencies Agency, on assignment from the Swedish Government. The government also found that it was important to open our eyes and make us prepare for different types of crises.

A crises could be such as a protracted power outage. IT-attacks. Circumstances in our outer environment causing lack of food and gas. Terror attacks. Climate change causing flooding and wild fires. For example.

The chart for home preparation has four headlines: food, water, heat (as in keeping your home and yourself warm) and communication. As for late May 2018 MSB had no reason for a fifth headline: cold. As in keeping your home and yourself cool in case of extreme warm temperatures. 

Simply because due to our experiences and history it wasn’t on the Swedish map for crises. Just as a big earthquake wouldn’t be. If there was (or is) a similar folder on the US west coast, The Big One would be among the top five. And in the Northwest in pair with the awaited eruption of Mount Rainer. 

Seattle children brings an earthquake kit to school for keeping in case of emergency. Trouble & Trouble had a little bag with pictures of mom and dad, a favourite stuffed animal and granola bars stacked with their friends kits at Valley School. In Sweden that might sound absurd. But the fact is, we prepare for what we know.

After this summer action plans for heat waves will happen. And the one good thing about the summer crises is that the consequences of climate change is now real to people and politicians. Except for the populistic party The Sweden Democrats which still is in total denial. Unfortunately today it looks like they will be the second largest party in Sweden.

The general election is in three weeks. It is a scary one. And crucially important.

A mother orca’s grief of her dead calf

On Saturday she let go. A dead baby daughter which she had been clinging to and carrying for at least 17 days.

Mother’s Day 1993 was our first visit to San Juan Island, the main island in the stunningly beautiful San Juan Island archipelago located between Seattle and Vancouver in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Have you watched the Free Willy movies? They are shot in this area. And for a good reason. 

The Southern Resident Killer Whales (SRKW), or Orcas, are a large extended family, or clan, comprised of three pods: J, K, and L pods. They live in the protected inshore waters of the Salish Sea which stretches from Puget Sound in the south to the Gulf Islands in British Columbia at the Pacific Northwest. As by June 2018 the population total was at an all time low of 75 whales.

I wonder how many they were in May 1993 when we saw them? Yes we did see them! We really did.

The population is closely followed and looked after by the Center for Whale Research, a non profit organisation with expertise such as marin biologists and alike. For 43 years now they have been committed to the assignment of saving the orcas and improve the conditions for their lives and future. In late 2005, the Southern Resident Killer Whales were placed on the U.S. Endangered Species list.

So, that Mother’s Day. San Juan Island and the little town Friday Harbour is such a picturesque place and we had come there the day before with the ferry, I actually think it was our first ferry experience in The Beautiful Northwest. We stayed at a lovely B&B (which by the way marketed themselves as providing Scandinavian cleanness…) and were in the morning accompanied by our benefactors Annie and Harold (who came to be Trouble & Trouble’s American grandparents) and who I am sure led us on to that field trip in the first place.

The Center for Whale Research provides Killer Whale Safaris, and as they follow the pods closely the odds for actually spotting orcas are pretty good. They are quiet costly though and didn’t fit into our budget. So, we did our best to not reveal to our then just-turned 5 and 7 year old sons the safaris even existed.

We drove around the island looking at amazing architecture (yes, it’s one of those places) and finding exiting beaches. At one point we stopped at a high up view point facing north. It was partly overcast and quiet windy. Suddenly Annie yelled: look! Look there!

Far out in the waters we could see them! The killer whales! Their characteristic movement, the black, the white, the back fin, yes, it was orcas!

Annie was the first one to spot them, but as they were so far away and the water rough it wasn’t that easy to find them. Nevertheless we did, one by one! Except for Trouble 2…

We tried to point them out but the sea is big with few fix points. Look! There they are! Where? I can’t see them! There, right there!

The situation turned more and more desperate. The barely 5 year old Trouble 2 cried as  being the only one not able to bring the memory of having seen wild orcas into his future. Until finally… Yes!

Until this day I am not quite sure if Trouble 2 actually saw the orcas or wanted it so badly they turned up before his eye. At that far distance it was quite difficult to tell the orcas from the rough waves.

July 24 2018 Tahlequah, or J35 as the female orca belongs to the J pod, gave birth to a calf. The newborn whale was reported alive and swimming with its mother and other members of J pod near Clover Point on the Victoria shoreline in mid-morning. A short time after, the baby died. Tahlequah probably has lost two other offspring since giving birth to a male calf in 2010.

Tahlequah’s grieving has caught a whole world. Since the baby died her mother has been carrying her. Emphatically she has clung to her calf, diving deeply to retrieve her baby each time it slid from her head. For at least 17 days. And 1000 miles.

The Center for Whale Research is today expressing a relief that Tahlequah has let go. That that part of the grieving is over. They are reporting how she is swimming with the pod, looking healthy. In the midst of everything she must have been eating.

The 20 year old orca is very important to the pod. Offspring is of course crucial for the future of the southern residents. But the reason to why calfs are dying is lack of food. Salmon is the primary provender for this population, and there isn’t enough. The shortage of salmon in the Northwest today is troublesome in general, but to orcas it’s crucial. 

How many times did we watch Free Willy when Trouble & Trouble were young? I don’t know, but the story of Willy followed them for many years. The Mother’s Day wild orca experience in early years gave my sons a special connection to the killer whales. 

"The Heat is Gone"

I had to put my jeans on today. And I don’t like it a bit.

Last night I shut my windows and doors when it was time for bed. I had kept them open all evening even though my feet were cold and I had to put a light sweater on. The idea of closing my house is so repulsive to me. I fight it hard.

The hottest heat wave in the Swedish history lasted for four weeks here on the 64th latitude. Since beginning of July I’ve had the need for cross draft through the house during evenings and over night. Hard though to remember to keep everything closed during day, such a backwards way for a northern Swede. 

I have loved it! It’s such a feeling of freedom and liberation! I talked to Daniel who works here about it the other day. He is from Rumania where the summers are hot. What do you mean, he said?

I tried to explain. It’s very simple really. In the northern Swedish climate what’s most important is keeping the house warm. Shut the door, don’t let the heat out! That’s a phrase so frequently used it’s in our DNA. 9 months out of 12. Sometimes more. Our houses are like fortresses you have to defend from the cold. Defend it with swords and excellent heating systems. With your life.

To be allowed to open a window without severe consequences is like taking a deep and life-giving breath. And then to open many! Normally cross draft is something you really dread…

Not this summer though! To open the front door, balcony door and most every window is like there are no enemies to protect the fort from! And then to keep them open! To remove the barriers between inside and outside! To experience the free flow of air through the rooms and through my being. Freedom! Liberation!

Daniel was smiling at me. I get it, he said.

I felt sad shutting my house last night. Although the last two weeks with severe humidity have been tough even on me, I have such resistance closing the house. The forecast for August promises normal summer weather for this latitude, around 20°C/68°F, a mix of sun overcast and chances for showers. Healthy! For humans as well as nature.

So. This morning I had to pull my jeans out from in the back of the closet where they’ve been relegated for very many weeks. And I took a top with long sleeves on. Socks on my feet. Finding myself humming on a travesty version of The Heat is On. I feel like landing here after spending some month in Summer Seattle. It will take some time to adjust.

Oh, and there it was, the first shower, and the temperature dropped to 12°C/54°F... Brrr...