Post Midsummer Post 1st Quar School

Finns know of the available attractions surrounding Raseborg. They know of the locations and they know more: the stories that gave rise to the sustained as well as declined environments of castles as well as hamlets. These things are nothing new. Nonetheless, there are always pockets of knowledge Finns have about this cherished region (the oldest portions of Finland proper) and they are eager to exchange them with foreigners like me. There inside these stories are sometimes private sometimes hidden relics. One can always find a plethora of adventures to choose from. While I am under doctor's advice to stay home, I can't repress the attempt to choose something to get out to see some more sights. Still I will stay close to home here in Ekenas. There is a second-hand shop that also provides charity worldwide: Emmaus Sommarjippo-Kesäjippo ringing in my ears. Its a short walk from my yard. Just recently I posted about the treasures I found there in CD'S. But what I wish to share now are treasure of a different sort. So while I must hold on awhile longer before I can venture forth into the sunshine once more, I wish to share with you brief adventures of time and places seen during my time at Vastra Nyland vastra nyland the local newspaper.

Over the course of a two week period, I traveled around Raseborg visitraseborg  with Thomas Sundstrom, Sofia Westerholm and Kristoffer Nöjd (all reporters at of Vastra Nyland), I learned much more about each location and its the surrounding habitats than any tour guide book may have offered. For them (the reporters with whom I traveled) the day's journeys to and fro were work related. Still Finns and Swedes alike take a certain pride in this land. Even seasoned reporters such at Thomas and Kristoffer find pointing out this and that and filling the time with anecdotes noteworthy. Even with their dispassionate accounts, one can discern a kind of pride in these tales.

From the first outing (always by car) til the last each reporter's windshield and words became a portal opening vistas for my wide-eyed escapades. Speeding by I was ushered into history and lore. From Tenala to Skaldo the daily nagging cloud cover could not conceal the terrains of beauty past and present. Indeed the seven types of flowers a hopeful bride might adorn herself with, as told me by Sophia, or the architectural designs that went into a retirement homes built by a women's auxiliary group in Bromary bromarv tickled my ears with delightful information.

At each destination, I met people who repressed their stares at me because I was apart of a team. A team who had come to write about either an event or their own business. We had an equality in our respective curiosities. They toward me an over sized AMERICAN with camera dangling and them to me as I figured them good peaceful folk. Thus while each writer conducted his or her interviews, I was free to make the best use of my time scouting about the premises for portrait shots of those they interviewed. At one cottage village, a kind of village harbor, I was intrigued by the goings on pf people near and afar. I had not been up close to boating people and seeing women carrying luggage along long piers making their ways to boats while bird hovered above was both picturesque and editorial. Such visuals offered a pealed away sighting into a rare slice of life. These working class eyes could only relish such scenes in movies of the good life. Thomas told me of how most where residents of Helsinki who had come to spend their summers tucked away in these peaceful get-a-ways.

People were certainly not the only sights and sounds that spoke to me. Nature nodded to us many times. Perhaps hidden behind trees or rocks. However leaving Scaldo, some deer crossing the road stared at Krisoffer and I as if we were the ones out of place. Perhaps we were. I certainly was.... I would do it again.