But then there were the summers in the countryside. A house in falun yellow. And the moss in the grass. We played tag and we shot targets with an air pistol. Do you remember that green drying rack?
I believe that we all carry it within us. The adaptation. From the city's courtyards to the country's lush memories.
It was a routine. The sun loungers out in June every year. Striped mattresses. And then we sat together and ate cookies and drank juice. My uncle's cat was more lost than we children. He searched for hiding spots in the crawl space and we laughed when his nose poked out, waiting for food. And a place?
Behind the plot, the stream flowed. We played "winner" beyond the bridge, and released boats of all kinds. We embraced mom's childhood with simplicity and threaded wild strawberries on stems.
Directly across from the plot lay the old children's colony. Children in my father's time could have summer weeks among the scent of seaweed and the love from cows grazing by the sea.
There we grew strong among beach roses and beach pines.
Then life shifted in. To three countries for me. Countless cities and the demands for education. Perhaps you recognize yourself? That someone tells you what you must?
After 35 years. I wanted to go home. Now it was enough. From the Sörmland forests and the deer and the ducks, something changed. We drove past a plot in northwestern Skåne and found a forever home.
So everything was displaced. A shift from suitcase to restoration. And in the blooming meadows we created, my child grew up.
Stockholm continues to play in my heart in our speakers. The city I always love. But dear you, Stockholm. Everything has its time. I was born and grew up among your waters and lands. But surely there is room for more?
Northwestern Skåne is my heart home.
Maria Lundgren, communicator Leader Skåne Mitt Nordväst & Local Development Sweden