Midsummer is nearly here, the holiday that along with Christmas brackets the Swedish year, each feast day sitting solidly in its season and marking off its territory with nearly the same food: cold fish and boiled potatoes and hard alcohol. Of course, to a Swede the food is vastly different, but it all looks frighteningly similar to me, even if I have gotten to almost like herring. Almost.
"It's all downhill from here," I said to C., the fashion photographer. "After Saturday, winter is on its way."
C. laughed a weak little obligatory laugh.
We take the 11 a.m. ferry tomorrow out to Birds Island.
It's supposed to rain all day, and Saturday as well. The sun should come out on Sunday, however, about when it's time for us to leave.
The Swedish word for the day is sommarlov. It means summer vacation.
- by Francis S.