Day Fifty three

I’ve been reading Robert Gailbrath, aka JK Rowling’s most recent book, Career of Evil.  It’s at a critical juncture this morning and I simply have to know what happens before we hit the road.  It helps that it’s raining too; Chris is in no great hurry.  The book is third in the series – with private detective Cormoran Strike as the key character.  They’re very good. Not the magical enchantment of Harry Potter, but very good in their own right. 

My book draws a satisfying end, if albeit with a side twist cliffhanger.  Excellent, this means there will be a fourth book to enjoy.  

It’s time to hit the road.  We will spend most of the next few days on the road, heading towards the High Coast, then on to Stockholm.  It’s a hard fact that having driven as far north as humanly possible, that it’s an equally, oh so long, distance back.  There’s not much getting around that.

The weather plays interesting tricks today.  The morning storm clears to blue sky, but we have what I’ll call localised storms.  Small black clouds amidst the blue that rain profusely for a kilometre or two, blue sky all around.  When we pass them, there’s not a hint that rain is nearby.  It’s reminiscent of cartoons where someone grumpy has a rain cloud over them alone.  Needless to say, the lighting this creates is rather lovely.

We pass a repeating landscape of wetlands, marshes, rivers and open farmland.  Quite a few fair sized towns too, but we’re on a mission, no time to stop for anything but the “not to be missed” destinations.

Particularly beautiful are the many natural lakes we see, many of which are edged with slender reeds or water lillies.  All seem to have alarmly high water levels.

The endless fencing and moose signs continue.  I’m beginning to think that they’re perhaps having a small, if expensive, joke at our expense.  Surely if there were this many moose in Scandinavia, we would be tripping over them by now.  Lesson learnt: when you do see a moose in the wild….you turn around and photograph it.  You don’t presume that you’ll see another one.

We see the first grain crops, almost ready for harvest, golden in the sun and endless kilometres of forest, pine and silver birch of all types.  There’s more apparent logging here than we’ve seen elsewhere.  

We stop just before Umed for the evening and are treated to a gold and red streaked sunset.  Darkness is creeping in on little cats paws, a gentle progression, a little more each night. 

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