North-South Menology: Home among the apple trees

Last week we woke well rested in our new home. We had arrived the night before, exhausted from a cross country train trip and a week of packing and cleaning and were snuggled together in bed by 9:30. The day we moved was the first day of Autumn and the weather matched. It was cool and brisk and it was exciting to be moving on just as the seasons were. On our first morning in our new home I sat outside on our new porch and let the notably warm sun wash over me. The fat, fluffy bumble bees were happily buzzing around the bushes that weaved their way up the stairs to the house and the pretty tree in the front yard sagged under the weight of its ripening apples. It was warm and beautiful but Autumn was still in the air. I have been here so many times before but it feels peculiar to call it my home now. It feels like a proper home, where artwork sits proudly on the walls and the chandelier in the dining room glitters in the sun. None of it is mine but I can pretend.

A week on and our bags are still packed and sprawled across the floor and filled boxes are untouched waiting in storage. Some day we will organise them but I'm glad most things are hidden away some place safe and in no need of attention for now. After moving all of our belongings I've realised how little we need and how little we want.

I have been using the opportunity of having August's grandparents so close by to spend some much needed time making food I love, playing and creating the healthiest, tastiest dishes I can, heavily influenced by the apples, currents and black berries in season now. It is a delight to cook with freshly picked produce growing just outside the door and even more satisfying to share it.

We have spent glowing afternoons in Rasmus's parents' summer home and early each morning we drive back to town. Those morning have been incredible. I sit in the back seat with a newly woken August staring out at the green and misty countryside, wrapped snuggly under a blanket and with those giant morning eyes he has, I could just drink in the sight of him forever. With the gleaming almost sanguine sun rising from the horizon I felt a calm excitement as the car lurched forward along the empty morning roads. I felt a tinge of longing to just keep driving, to be lulled into a dream state by the never-ending countryside and the movements of the car beneath me. I'm pulled each time from my quiet respite when we reach home and have to go inside, when the day begins and those misty mornings and dreamy Swedish landscapes disappear from memory, when reality settles.

We are still adjusting to life here. I keep catching myself thinking of when we have to go back home to the big city and then realise we have no home to go back to now. After spending so long there it feels hard to let go, but time will help with that and life here will take over my thoughts. The dynamic of this place is different. There is a certain calmness here as I suppose there is in most smaller cities and towns but it has a much more dramatic effect than expected. We will mould to its rhythm as we have moulded to city life. But I am glad for the new surroundings, the fresh air and the space to grow.