Fifth Journey Day 39: Raincoat Yellow, Motionless
Date: June 16, 2025
Location: Rovaniemi, Finland
The plane arrived just after 12:00 p.m. The plane slowly landed in a town surrounded by trees and a river. I hadn't expected it to feel so whole — not untouched, but gently held in its own rhythm. The air felt cool, but not cold. I could smell the nearby forest even before I saw it. The breeze moved in slow, uneven gusts that carried the scent of moss and faint woodsmoke.
After dropping my bags at the guesthouse — a renovated family home with old pine floors — I went out without much of a plan. I found the river without difficulty. It was wide but not overwhelming. The surface of the water was rippling gently from the light wind, and some water birds were quietly swimming and flying overhead. I followed the curve of the bank, where damp grass and flattened reeds made a soft path. A man in a yellow raincoat was fishing, completely still. We didn't talk, but I still remember how he seemed so quiet.
I sat on a stone for a while and traced the shapes of lichen with my thumb. The water sounded different from the Arctic coast — more layered, almost conversational. I didn't draw. I thought I might, but the stillness asked for something else. I'm just watching. The sky changes from gray to silver.
When I got back to the guesthouse, I had a small pastry with cardamom in it. It reminded me of something from childhood, but not in a direct way. It was more like the shape of a feeling I couldn't name. I didn't need to.
Tonight, I feel calm and centered. I'm not feeling euphoric or emotional. I'm just feeling calm and content in a place that doesn't ask much of me. This is a good place to start.
