Sunday, December 8

The rain has finally stopped. I make the beds and then go for a walk.

I walk through the woods and come across a surprise. I find a pink child’s bike chained neatly to a tree. It stands well away from the path with no houses in sight. I stop to wonder what might have happened.

I imagine a small child triumphantly getting the lock to work and then failing to get it unlocked, and trudging home to fetch help or get into trouble, or both. I wonder when the imaginary child will return, if at all.

In the late afternoon we will drive to Marimekko under darkening storm clouds. By the time we get home the rain will have set in again.