Summer (Cottage) Fun

This is a very selfish post. I am writing it purely to relive memories because, even though I have absolutely loved being at home for this week, eating my mother’s cooking, meeting friends and remembering what 30° (90° for my American friends) weather feels like, part of me misses Finland.

I probably wouldn’t miss it so much if it weren’t for a weekend trip I took before leaving to a friend’s summer cottage. It was quintessentially Finnish. (And then later that week we made hernekeitto and pannukakku. You can’t get more Finnish than that.)

The cottage was tucked away in the middle of woods. Though there were two other cottages not far from ours, we couldn’t see or hear anything from our neighbors, thus giving the illusion that we were completely secluded from the outside world.

Cottages are generally located near a body of water, either a lake or the ocean. This cottage was by a lake. It actually belongs to my friend’s mother who spends almost every weekend as well as six whole weeks of the summer at it. Much of this time is spent doing extensive renovations, most of which she does herself. The cottage is like her baby and I felt honored to be able to stay in it for a weekend.

Those two days were magical. When we woke up in the morning, the sun had already reached the height of the trees and there was light until well past 11. With there being light for so long, my first instinct was to try to fill up the day as much as possible. But that is not the point of being in a summer cottage.

Over that weekend I learned to stop worrying about filling every moment with as much activity as possible or about trying to do everything possible. The go with the flow approach made it easier to savor each moment. It also meant we didn’t get through half of the things we talked about doing so another trip is now a necessity.

My friend talks about the cottage a lot. One evening, he spent the majority of our conversation sharing memories of his father’s cottage when he was young and talking about the renovations. He was enthusiastic so I tried to be a good friend and show excitement but I couldn’t understand the fond attachment. Who would want to spend a summer living in a house where heating it requires you to collect firewood every night?

Two days was all it took to enlighten me. There have been articles about how being in nature improves your mental health and well-being. Something about being in the middle of the woods with only the sound of the water gently lapping against the shore and the wind rustling in the trees is soothing to the mind and soul.

I don’t think I’ll be chopping firewood any time soon. But who knows. I’m going with the flow.