To feel at home
I’m home again.
In the home across the border, the place where I live and work.
I had a great Christmas holiday.
A busy week as usual, but with lovely catch-ups and quality time with friends and family.
I stayed one night in Stockholm, travelled the train to Hudiksvall, walked around town for hours with mom, greeting old friends and their families.
I spent Christmas Eve in the country side with more family and Christmas Day with more friends.
Christmas Day was the big ‘homecoming’ night out and the day after we had a 60 years gathering for my uncle.
The next day I took the train to Gävle to meet my brother from where we drove to Rättvik, to my Dad and Grandmother.
I ate and drank more than I have in months but at least made time for a few workout and winter walks.
More than anything, it was beautiful.
White snow, glistening frost covered fields and pale pink skies.
I wish I had days to photograph it all.
I wish I had been out at my girlfriend’s country house on Christmas Eve when the whole sky was dancing with Northern Lights.
But I was everywhere, with everyone.
Except in one man’s arms, where I feel more at home than anywhere.