One of my most most most most beloved nights of the year. I don't even know why really. It must be partly the memories, even though, come to think of it, my festivities have never been too extravagant. So maybe it is something that it does to me, or makes me feel. There's something very satisfying about a tradition that entails fires, everywhere, on one of the longest days of the year. It is saying, declaring we made it through the winter. Saying the very same thing our ancestors said hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Celebrating the summer, and light, and life. And fire. The fire without which we would not be much.
Estonians, I think, understand where they stand in terms of the nature around them pretty well. Not much of this arrogance that there's plenty of elsewhere. So that's why this one night feels special, a celebration of us, the people, living, on these very lands, that give it to us quite rough sometimes. But this one night, even if it rains like the heavens have opened, is worth celebrating.
(This is such a pile of sentimental goo, but that is exactly how it makes me feel. And i love it.)
We made it through the winter. We made it through the dark and cold. Once more. One more year, one more.
Head jaanipäeva.
M.
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