Read more after the jump! And there's a lot more:
Sometimes I'm too tired to lug around my heavy camera, or too shy to pull it out, or I think that I won't find anything to photograph, anyway (note: you always do). I need to force this bad habit out and away for good! Because in the end I will want photographs I can be proud of, not a sullen regret that I feared, above all things, looking stupid. These are words I need to remember.
|this is what Floridians do in the snow.|
Monday (February 13, 2012) I took a class field trip to Skansen, an open-air museum in Stockholm that was founded in 1891. Across Skansen's 75 acres, I walked for 7 and a half hours in the snow (finally!), exploring a living history of Sweden--walking in and peering through old cottages and farmsteads and a native Saami camp, through a zoo of Scandinavian native animals, across slippery bridges and between frosty gardens. There is just so much to see. And even after my day's excursion, there were still parts that will have to wait for my return in the spring, when the weather is warm and the flowers are in bloom.
Here are some of my photographs from Skansen, without trying to be too travel/touristy, but at the same time, I don't care if they are! I'm pretty much in limbo between tourist/foreigner/resident anyway. Proudly, though, I rarely feel cold anymore. It's a big step for me. Anyway, I hope you like them:
|I can't wait to see this butterfly garden in the spring.|
|an icy greenhouse|
|it started lightly snowing around this time.|
|absolutely stunning views of Stockholm all around the perimeter.|
The last part of Skansen before the exit holds a small amusement park for children that was closed for the winter. The rides all hung limp in a depressing hulk of of metal and chains, frozen until the summer. The only sound to penetrate that eerie silence came from a Candy Man machine, which I could hear dimly singing as I walked alone. As I went to inspect the exhilarating thrill ride known as the Baby Trotter, I did not notice the music had stopped. Peering into the graveyard of coin-operated machines, I heard behind me in the loudest volume yet, CANDYYY MANNNN. I got the hell out.