I had a friend, Seija, who grew up in Rovaniemi, in Lapland. She in turn had a school friend whose mother would always disappear for the darkest part of the dark season. Some time in December she would take off without a word. They thought maybe she went out in the wilderness somewhere. In February, when the days got longer, she would return. Without a word.
That was just how it was.Pekka Jylhä: Trembling and honoring, photo: Jussi Tiainen