And at the sight of it, my father is doing his little dance from above

We are entering the week leading up to Christmas. Ideally it would be a peaceful week. But four months after the election Sweden still doesn’t have a government and nobody knows how to get there. Brexit and Great Britain is in equal limbo. France is on fire in protests compared to 1968. And of course, in the US the White House Circus is spinning as usual.

But here at the end of the road the world is white and quiet. Sören, who takes care of my fields, drives his green tractor up the field road for feeding the wild life which hide in the forest on Dry Mountain. The trees are covered with frost, it’s cold and perfectly still.

In the mornings my front yard is perforated with traces of deer. How many visited during the night? At least four, maybe even seven! Sometimes I see them up the field on their way to Sören’s food hide away in the grove right behind the flat rock my mother used to call the tiny mountain, it was her playground. A couple of weeks ago two of them crossed over my road right infront of me at my next door neighbour Melker’s. 

The morning after Sorella’s funeral four beautiful deer gracefully jumped over her  grave under the cherry tree, as paying her their respect. And one afternoon two stately red deer strolled over the fields in the dusk. Trouble 1 had been driving me back home and we caught them in the shady light. Hearing their hooves making their steps in the crisp snow crust. It’s a bit magical.

Those of you who have been following me know I am in love (or possibly obsessed) with dressing my place here at the end of the road with lights. If I didn’t it would be pitch black here. And although that would make room for the Milky Way that darkness consumes me. So, I chase it away with spotlights and light strings. I make my place visible in the dark. I decorate it, making it an outside room.

Now, there is a fine line between tasteful and tacky. And I might just have passed it…

For years I have had this ridiculous vague fantasy about placing an illuminated deer somewhere in my surroundings. You know one of those animals shining with a frosty cold white light. Expensive, but going for half prize at the after Christmas sale. And last year I went for it… A red deer, but the size of a deer.

The thing is, when I was a little girl, my father used to put together beautiful snow landscapes for me and my sister do admire and adore. Wooden cottages and mirrors as frozen lakes in white cotton snow. Deer at the lake, a fox hiding behind the cottage, even a bear at the edge of the forest. The landscape was placed at the top of a drawer and my sister and I could sit there for hours, fantasising, moving the animals around.

Last Christmas it struck me: I am living in one of those landscapes! Snow, cottages, forest, animals! The only thing missing is a lake, I can’t do much about that unfortunately. Anyway, that’s when I realised I could allow myself a luminous deer!

It’s been siting at the back of the coach house since the sale, red tag still around the neck. I had an idea for the location in my full-size snow landscape. Deer are shy, so it might be a good idea to place it a bit aways. 

At the edge of the forest to the south there is an outhouse. My father built it when he tore down the barn, where the original homestead outhouse was located. It carries the signs of dad. It’s a sweet little house. 

And now an illuminated deer is peaking out from the dark of the back left corner of it. I can see my dad smiling from above. I can hear his laughter doing his little dance of joy at the sight of a full size frosty deer in my full size snow landscape.