I came to share what’s been going on. The last two posts were so reflective and informative that I thought it might be nice to just talk about what’s happening here during the spring-winter.

The start of the ski holiday weeks has brought more traffic on the roads and in the grocery stores. Even though my village isn’t directly on the path of vacationers, the flow of cars with ski boxes heading toward the fells is still noticeable. Last year, the traffic and increasing number of people made me feel uneasy, like someone was intruding on my space and my life. Although I don’t own anything here, and I don’t want to—it’s funny how the human mind works.

I’ve come to realize how important the holiday season is for local businesses, and that makes me happy too. For some entrepreneurs, a few weeks of high season might cover their costs for the entire year. Without the tourists, there would be even more deserted villages, closed shops, and fewer services, which would affect me as well.

Still, I avoid the increased traffic and other travelers whenever I can. I give myself that permission. My village road remains peaceful, and there are plenty of places that the average tourist never reaches. There’s room here for everyone, and that’s why we’re drawn to this place—the unique nature and the vast openness. Me, and the tourists alike.

I’ve been craving a little pause. Sometimes, I feel like I’m drifting here and there, wanting to do everything all at once. When I get excited about something, I dive in full force and do a lot. Right now, I have so many things that excite me and bring me joy, but finding balance between those and rest is difficult. Sometimes, doing nothing is hard, but lately, I’ve been learning how to just be—to do things that feel good without any specific purpose or outcome.

Even though inspiring projects and ideas wait for me on my desk, I’m trying to let them rest for a while and do something completely different. My sister is great at this. We had a video call on her day off, and she showed me how she had named her houseplants and made little name tags for them, spending the entire morning on it, just for fun. That’s something I want to learn, too.

The search for a house or cabin is still in full swing, and it’s become even more active with E. He’s more talkative and great in social situations, which, it turns out, are key to finding a home around here. The typical searches on Tori and Etuovi aren’t bringing any results; the methods here are entirely different. You need to mention the house search to everyone, in every situation, and ask nearly everyone you meet. The most unique places never end up on public listings—they’re sold directly, hand-to-hand.

We’ve continued driving around in areas where we hope to find a house, marking spots on the map when we come across something promising. Soon, we’ll be able to say there aren’t many roads or small villages in Western Lapland that we haven’t driven through.

For now, the idea of leaving this cabin is hard to consider. Living by the river, under the northern lights, feels just right. Yet, the longing for a space to call our own—a place we can gradually make ours—is strong. The search continues, but there’s no rush. I know it’s likely a project that will take more than a few months. I’ve been looking through Lapland’s house and cabin market for almost two years now, and only a couple of times have I come close to buying.

But right now, things are good as they are. In the midst of everything happening in the world, it sometimes feels almost absurd how well things can be.

Peace and warmth to everyone <3

<3 Sanna