It’s been several weeks of above 0°C temperatures, and the snow is gone – except for the random piles covered in sand and pebbles that typically only melt at around midsummer (or at least it feels that way) and the sea ice. Plenty of ice left.
The sun was shining brightly and the neighborhood forest felt like spring. It is still early in the year and the nature seems unsure whether it can trust the warmth. There are no early flowers or green shoots in the trees yet. The first shoots of grass are rising from the forest moss.
Most often, when I go to the office, I take the metro. I live almost at the end of the line, so even on the busiest of mornings, I can get a window seat, close my eyes, and listen to my audiobook.
Almost without exception, I come home after rush hour has passed. Rarely more than a handfull of people get off at my stop. I get the long escalator all to myself.
One of these days I will get off one station before, as that apparently has the longest escalator in Finland. So far, I have never prioritized the experience over getting home faster.
In Southern Finland, there is no weather worse than +2°C and rain. My foreign friends think I’m nuts when I say I’d take -25°C any day over +2°C.
You can enjoy the beautiful crispness of -25°C if you wear the right gear. But nothing improves +2°C and rain. It is miserable, depressing, gloomy, and, because it is Finland, most often dark.
I think my opinion has only gained credibility now that my South African-born-and-bred husband has started to agree with me.
Days are getting longer with spring, but even that does not help, when your workday extends to late evening. Luckily, our winter lights are still in on.
With 2/3 of first grade behind us, the elation of the first days has settled into a steady routine. Luckily, both girls quite enjoy school and are doing well in their studies – although homework is still quite an unpleasant chore.
I have been most impressed with how differently first-grade maths is taught compared to my own school days. The girls have studied how to visualize data in charts, estimate prices, solve verbal equations, measure distance, build 3D models… all this before ‘formally’ even learning how to write the number 10. It is all about challenging problem-solving skills, not learning by heart.
We have a big glassed-in terrace in our back garden. When the temperature stays below zero for several days in a row, the glass gets covered in ice crystals. It looks like it belongs in the ice palace from Narnia (or Frozen, for the girls’ generation). Trying to take pictures of it is impossible, though. A photo never compares.
The first time Stuart visited Finland was for Christmas 2010. It was an exceptional December. Over one metre of snow blanketed Helsinki, and the city was running out of places to plough it. Parking lots and walkways disappeared under snow mountains in an attempt to keep the streets clear. The temperature dropped below –27°C the day before Christmas Eve in Asikkala, where we were spending the holidays.
Everyone kept saying how rare that winter was, but I don’t think Stuart truly understood it until we moved here. The past four winters have shown how much muddier a typical coastal winter is. Because of the sea, day temperatures rise above 0°C on more than half (sometimes two-thirds) of days in January and February. Snow melts, turns slushy and heavy, mixes with sand and dirt, and becomes cold mud. Not exactly postcard-perfect winter scenery – at least not before the next snowfall briefly covers it all again.
Therefore, even with numb fingers, a frozen-solid car, and limited time outdoors, I love these crisp, sunny, beautiful winter days. You can see the cold in the air and the way light reflects.
–10°C would be perfectly fine, though. –20°C is pushing it.
Blue Moment 