AUGUST MOON - HARBINGER OF AUTUMN

As usual, the sound of the first boat trafficking Hammarby Sound woke me up from an uneasy sleep at 5.45 this morning. No use prolonging my turning around in bed; instead, I saluted a rare sunrise morning after several days of rain and dusk. When treading out to the balcony, I turned away from the usual sight, photographed so many times already, to let my back benefit from the sun for a while. But how delighted i was at seeing the low sun bathing the Skanstull bridges and lock with its golden shine. Amazingly, the reflections of glass facades in the water shone much clearer than the facades themselves. An effect of the sun's angle on the horizon, no doubt. 

Above it all throned a full moon, the August moon so adored by the Swedes! It signals the start of the crayfish party season, with much drinking and frolicking, a remainder from heathen times and their ancient sacrifices to thank the goods for a good harvest and prolong the memories of a mellow summer. 

Since we are looking at Hammarby Sound from a new angle this time, let me finish by showing you another view. This picture was taken yesterday around 14.30, at a rare intermission in the steady raining of that day.

RETURN OF THE BLUE HOUR

Early this morning, I languished in a troublesome dream. Dragons were pursuing me with terrible screeches, flapping their wings and flashing their teeth. Gradually I turned awake, glad for the return of rational perceptions. But the screeching went on unabated! I rushed to the living room windows and had a quick look outside. It was still rather dark, at 4.30 in the morning. But I still was able to discern a flock of sizable sea gulls gushing around our building and disturbing the neighbourhood with their loud grating voices, as if complaining about lack of food in the “canyons” of our apartment block that they surely perceive as a cliff on the seaside. Soon the flock went on to awaken other residents further off and I stepped out to the balcony to savour the early morning views.

Standing at the balcony rails I was surprised at the relative darkness of the hour. But I should not be! It is almost two months after midsummer now and the white nights are gone. Instead we can again benefit from the beautiful blue haze that is welcoming us early risers as compensation for getting up too early. Best to savour this atmosphere whilst there is still summer, with its promise of a healthy sunrise just a short while later. In a couple of months, the blueness will prevail well into the morning and stay with us even when venturing outside to our daily working venues.

Those of us already longing for the return of the white nights may wish to look at the picture below. It shows the same view a month ago, AND AS EARLY AS 3 AM. What a difference a month makes!

ON THE FRONT

Yesterday was one of those days; rain falling from morning to evening, sometimes mitigated down to drizzle, but never relenting and continuing well into the night. This of course invited a preponed sleep-in, with the sound of steady dripping drowning other evening sounds and creating a somnolent atmosphere. But, around 5.15 AM, I was suddenly awake, wondering where the steady dripping had gone to. The rain had stopped and a serene quiet reigned over Hammarby Sound (Hammarby Sjö). Still half asleep, I sneaked out to the balcony for a check of weather prospects for the newly born day. Well, there was not much I could see. The warmth of the early sun rise had created, in the humidity after the rain, a lofty blanket of fog that enveloped the Sound with its airy cotton, allowing just glimpses of boats and quay in the near distance.

We are now experiencing the normal Swedish High Summer, with rainy days occasionally interspersed by sunny interludes. The continent is heating up, especially in its Eastern ranges far into Russia. Out there in the Northern Atlantic, the water is also getting warm, with corresponding influences on the air above. The front between these two masses of warming air is building Lows that typically migrate over Scandinavia, with Sweden being the final recipient. The result is cloudy days and rain, lasting until the clouds have fully disbursed their watery burden; whereupon there is a brief respite, with a few sunny days, until there are new clouds filled with moisture to disburse. This battle front of air masses striving for supremacy is governing the Swedish summer well into August. First when temperatures are starting to abate on the continent, is there hope for a new sunny period, albeit shorter and later in the season. 

THE ETERNAL LONGING FOR THE SEA

Two days ago, I rose late from a good night's sleep. The weather had cooled off the day before for the first time after a long lasting heat wave and this did me a lot of good during the night. The morning was clear and agreeable and I munshed my breakfast on the balcony. As I was sipping my coffee, I could not help noticing that a long string of boats was huffing and puffing seawards. So I rushed to get my camera to document this nice event for your benefit. 

The boats trafficking below my windows usually come in batches like this. Just 500 meters to the left of my apartment, Lake Mälar (Mälaren) empties itself into the Baltic. At this precise spot there is a pound lock located under the three Skanstull bridges, which opens only once an hour or so, forcing the boats into an orderly queue when sailing towards the sea. One has to admire these hardy sailors who have to spend many hours of drudging through the inner archipelago of Stockholm before seeing, at long last, some open bays and beautiful skerries further out in the Baltic. But this does not detain robust Swedes who entertain a life long love affair with the sea and spend their free time, either, on a boat among the skerries or, more sedately, in a summer house out there somewhere.

MIDSUMMER HEAT IS GLARING

This is a year of climate excesses, at least in Sweden. You may recall last winter, so harsh and snowy that Stockholm was shrouded in white from December to March ("Midwinter-night cold is harsh"). We now are approaching the opposite end of the scale, with summer heat reaching record values of 35 degrees and above, unheard of since at least 15 years back.

Yesterday I returned by train from Scania in Southern Sweden, where I visited some friends at their summer cottage. The trip normally takes about 6 hours (Sweden is a big country). But due to the heat, fires on the track and loss of power on the rails, the train was just standing at a station for four hours, awaiting the signal to proceed. Fortunately there was air conditioning on board. Eventually we got moving again and I arrived back home in Hammarby Sjöstad around midnight. The trip took as long as my trip home from Chicago a month ago!

After a couple hours of uneasy sleep the sun found its way through the curtains and touched my cheeks, reminding me that another long sunny day was in the making. When I went out to the balcony, at 4.30 in the morning, Hammarby Sound (Hammarby Sjö) lay completely quiet in the golden glow of early sunshine. The water was subdued and acted as a mirror for the yellow gleam of heaven. The heat was still bearable, but already above 20 degrees and rising. Another glaring day in the making, a treat for the sun-loving Swedes!

WHITE STOCKHOLM NIGHTS

The picture you are looking at shows Sophia Church (Sofia Kyrka), just opposite, and due north of, my apartment in Stockholm. As you can see from the church clock, it is precisely midnight. I arrived back home, after 12 weeks of travel, on the evening of 22 June, just some twenty minutes before taking this photo. For you, dear readers, not familiar with Sweden and its peculiarities, you are witnessing the famous white night of the Nordic midsummer.

All was quiet on this blessed occasion. The sun had, of course, already set, but was ambling along, slowly but surely, just a wee bit below the horizon, keeping the northern sky full of light, against which the church tower stood as an enticing silhouette. Suddenly, birds started to twitter, as if being confused between dusk and dawn. And right they were in being confused, since dusk merged with dawn without an intermittent period of dark. Soon the zone of lightness would pass the church and amble towards the right, getting more brilliant along its way until, an hour later, the first golden colours of the sun would start colouring its lower fringe, announcing the newly borne day. But at midnight, Hammarby Sound (Hammarby Sjö) to the right of the church was still spared the sun, being bathed instead by the vermillion of predawn.

MIDWINTER-NIGHT COLD IS HARSH

I usually sleep with my window open. Yesterday morning, my nose and ears felt a bit numb. No wonder, the temperature had fallen well below the minus twenties during a clear night, passing into a beautiful morning. As I was eating my breakfast, around 7.30, all was quiet as the first rays of the sun started to illuminate house roofs. Soon I heard the first ferryboat laboring, with a crunching sound, through the ice across Hammarby Sound (Hammarby Sjö). Gradually tug boats started to join in, going towards Lake Mälar (Mälaren). A larger one, pushing a snowy barge ahead of it, parted in the opposite direction towards the sea. 

Rarely do we experience such a harsh winter in Stockholm nowadays. It started to snow when I returned from the Canaries on 19 December and it has snowed off and on ever since. We have to go back twenty years in time to recall similar hardships. So I put the marvelous scene on record, not sure whether I would experience it again in my lifetime. 

PS: The comments below are actually responses to an e-mail I sent to family and friends February last, with the picture and text I have replicated in the present post. DS