Song For Birds
Song for Birds 1 
Here at incredible Kiekula residence, enjoying many things including the House Martins whom we share the outside porch with. Their tweets have been non stop, so decided to give them a tune back-this ones for the birds! Click on Icon and enjoy their song as we have here....
Now my last day here so have tried to sum this experience up for me, later I will put some more sound pieces up after they are edited a little.
Elusive Being
This has without a doubt been one of the most powerful experiences I have had for a long while, the region has a magic about it that has entered into my dreams and soul; even the fridge purred in Kiekula like a content old cat!
For days I wandered and dreamt in subconscious merriment ever deeper towards the rare gems that lie there so long abandoned but never forgotten, surrounded by the mists of disorientation.
Could I find this place of mystery again, why hadn’t I heard its sound, why is there only silence?
Confusion and indecision being my ever faithful allies and guides on this quest; searching for a glimpse of paradise and hoping that the rewards of which would outweigh the many sacrifices made-I was trusting they would!
Trekking round lakes, traversing valleys, tundra and mountain-tops, descending into moss and lichen laden forests following the melodic song of birds and the smell of damp moist earth before finally laying down to rest beside a glacial stream, seeking its sweet song to be whispered to me.
Still this secret eluded me, that like anything that is slightly just out of reach you never quite get hold of it and maybe that’s because the desire is too strong, maybe it’s not that simple, who knows? So I told myself that when I let go of the desire perhaps I will find this elusive muse, so that’s what I did.
For I could not name what I was seeking even though it was familiar to my past, making the path truly mysterious but I knew it’s something-that drives me on, keeps me going and makes the moments of not knowing somehow more meaningful.
The path brings me here yet again to this land where time dwells not in a logical format but conjuring up the unimaginable and not ever what you thought it was going to be, bringing to mind the old saying ‘make plans, God laughs’ and I hear that sound, chuckling away!
Where doing may not be being, but being really is the doing and time spent trying to be, can exhaust you to the core.
Flabbergasted and tried to the last I sat upon the earth and made a fire with birch, fire not as fast as that but many times I kept at it; failure after failure ‘but I used to be one with nature, how is it the fire won’t light?
Self-doubt sticks its ugly head in and hisses in my ear; ‘city boy now, who’s lost his way severed from his roots and what he loves most, all passion gone aging body remains with decay setting in that’s rotting the teeth. The best is gone and the rest is not worth the paper it’s written on, a tale of familiar morbid truth is all that’s left-what is the point of anything’?
I stared in despair at the damp bits of twig and set my mind to focus on sparking the birch bark, I was going to do it, clearing my mind and releasing my thoughts ‘a moment of mindfulness’-as the tiny flicker of a small flame danced amongst the damp, there was still hope!
Huge powerful dark clouds loom over head threatening to quench the small friendly flame, behind Pikku-Malla sheets of rain fall on Swedish soil. A dream as a child where I was running away, but as I ran the dark thing chasing me became closer and closer, footsteps growing louder and louder, the faster I went the more deafening and bigger an closer it got, there was no escape THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!
The fire cracked I refocused and the dancing continued slowly growing as I added more wood fed piece by piece, twig by twig-fire replacing smoke, warmth battled against cold, sitting myself closer to the flames feeling winter creeping nearby and darkness evermore at bay. After a while the fire was crackling and snapping, mountain water lapping on the shore, rhythms and familiar sounds as miraculous alchemy warmed my soul leaving me feeling not so alone. Reaching for my ukulele and striking a tune in harmony as Wagtails flew close by rising, falling up and down, reunited with other friends of nature once again; fire, water, air, earth, wood and stone keeping me company beside the lake of Kilpisjärvi, ‘being-home again’.
Here at incredible Kiekula residence, enjoying many things including the House Martins whom we share the outside porch with. Their tweets have been non stop, so decided to give them a tune back-this ones for the birds! Click on Icon and enjoy their song as we have here....
Now my last day here so have tried to sum this experience up for me, later I will put some more sound pieces up after they are edited a little.
Elusive Being
This has without a doubt been one of the most powerful experiences I have had for a long while, the region has a magic about it that has entered into my dreams and soul; even the fridge purred in Kiekula like a content old cat!
For days I wandered and dreamt in subconscious merriment ever deeper towards the rare gems that lie there so long abandoned but never forgotten, surrounded by the mists of disorientation.
Could I find this place of mystery again, why hadn’t I heard its sound, why is there only silence?
Confusion and indecision being my ever faithful allies and guides on this quest; searching for a glimpse of paradise and hoping that the rewards of which would outweigh the many sacrifices made-I was trusting they would!
Trekking round lakes, traversing valleys, tundra and mountain-tops, descending into moss and lichen laden forests following the melodic song of birds and the smell of damp moist earth before finally laying down to rest beside a glacial stream, seeking its sweet song to be whispered to me.
Still this secret eluded me, that like anything that is slightly just out of reach you never quite get hold of it and maybe that’s because the desire is too strong, maybe it’s not that simple, who knows? So I told myself that when I let go of the desire perhaps I will find this elusive muse, so that’s what I did.
For I could not name what I was seeking even though it was familiar to my past, making the path truly mysterious but I knew it’s something-that drives me on, keeps me going and makes the moments of not knowing somehow more meaningful.
The path brings me here yet again to this land where time dwells not in a logical format but conjuring up the unimaginable and not ever what you thought it was going to be, bringing to mind the old saying ‘make plans, God laughs’ and I hear that sound, chuckling away!
Where doing may not be being, but being really is the doing and time spent trying to be, can exhaust you to the core.
Flabbergasted and tried to the last I sat upon the earth and made a fire with birch, fire not as fast as that but many times I kept at it; failure after failure ‘but I used to be one with nature, how is it the fire won’t light?
Self-doubt sticks its ugly head in and hisses in my ear; ‘city boy now, who’s lost his way severed from his roots and what he loves most, all passion gone aging body remains with decay setting in that’s rotting the teeth. The best is gone and the rest is not worth the paper it’s written on, a tale of familiar morbid truth is all that’s left-what is the point of anything’?
I stared in despair at the damp bits of twig and set my mind to focus on sparking the birch bark, I was going to do it, clearing my mind and releasing my thoughts ‘a moment of mindfulness’-as the tiny flicker of a small flame danced amongst the damp, there was still hope!
Huge powerful dark clouds loom over head threatening to quench the small friendly flame, behind Pikku-Malla sheets of rain fall on Swedish soil. A dream as a child where I was running away, but as I ran the dark thing chasing me became closer and closer, footsteps growing louder and louder, the faster I went the more deafening and bigger an closer it got, there was no escape THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!
The fire cracked I refocused and the dancing continued slowly growing as I added more wood fed piece by piece, twig by twig-fire replacing smoke, warmth battled against cold, sitting myself closer to the flames feeling winter creeping nearby and darkness evermore at bay. After a while the fire was crackling and snapping, mountain water lapping on the shore, rhythms and familiar sounds as miraculous alchemy warmed my soul leaving me feeling not so alone. Reaching for my ukulele and striking a tune in harmony as Wagtails flew close by rising, falling up and down, reunited with other friends of nature once again; fire, water, air, earth, wood and stone keeping me company beside the lake of Kilpisjärvi, ‘being-home again’.