Easter and Spring time in the northern hemisphere are inextricably entwined. While in Australia, during April we would now be donning a woolly jumper and coat, preparing those warming soups, hauling out the brollies and watching the darkness and cold appear, up in the north of the globe, this time of year is associated with the awakening of the natural world after months of hibernation.

When going out for a walk to the supermarket yesterday, I took the longer but prettier route through the woods and was lucky enough to be able to enjoy all the signs of that emerging season. The bofink (chaffinches) have returned from southern Europe and were merrily trilling in the birch trees. There were koltrast (blackbirds) busy building a nest in the cherry tree. Some bergfink (bramblings) were hopping around at a bird feeding table outside a small house. These common small birds are just so eager in their song that it makes you glad. Further along, I heard some sheep bleating, I noticed the bright yellow and cheerful tussilago (coltsfoot) sprouting up everywhere and the dappled light added to the feeling that yes, spring was on the way.




According to the bureau of meterology in Sweden, it is officially spring when we have five consecutive days with the temperature above zero. For us in the middle of Sweden, that is now, though sadly not for poor Darren who lives in Norrland. (*snigger*)

Throughout the centuries, Swedes have had their special ways to help hasten spring’s advance. This is where the idea of decorating the home for Easter arose. The first Easter I spent here, I was puzzled by what appeared to be arrangements of dead twigs with fluro-coloured feathers attached to them. These were to be found everywhere - even in the most tasteful and minimalist of homes. These apparently became popular in Stockholm during the nineteenth century and subsequently spread to the whole country.




As in the word fika that I described last post, there is no single English word for these påskris. Most dictionaries translate påskris as "twigs with coloured feathers used as a decoration during Lent". I have been threatened with instant divorce if I dare to bring them into the house, but other Swedes can buy them practically everywhere this time of year. Every marketplace has bunches of these birch twigs with fluffy and gaily-coloured chicken feathers. The idea is that you take them home, put them into a vase of water and very soon, aided by by the spring sunshine and the wonders of central heating, the sprigs burst into tender green leaves.

We never really went in for Easter decorations as such in Australia. We made hot cross buns and bought chocolate eggs and bunnies or bilbies but for a lot of Australians Easter is just a four day weekend where you go camping. If you lived in Sydney, it was also time for the royal show. I had a catholic upbringing, so there was more of a religious tone to the time, but the only "decoration" my mum would allow in the house was the olive twig that was blessed by the priest on Palm Sunday.

You also have to remember that it is autumn there, so the symbols of new life are perhaps not appropriate. It is a different story here where the colour yellow dominates and there is a dizzying array of accessories to dress up your home, all of them rejoicing in the birth of new life. One of my favourite flowers also appear about now - the tulip.




I am allowed to have tulips in the house, so I take advantage of that fact and relish in their beauty while I can.

I had a strange exchange with a young man yesterday while passing a bus stop on my way in to the supermarket. He was studying the bus timetable and turned to ask me which of the listed buses passed by centrum. I took a quick glance at the list and told him that the 860 went directly along the road where we were standing to the train station, but that the other buses all turned and passed by the area he wanted. He looked at me for a second and opened his mouth to speak. I was expecting maybe a "Thankyou for your help" but instead I was surprised by him saying "You're not Swedish, are you?" What do you say to something like that? He asked for directions, I gave them to him. In the same circumstances I would never dream of saying something other than thank you. I just shrugged and said "No, I'm Australian. But I do know the buses as I have lived in this town for a few years." and I turned and continued on my way.

To finish with a smile, I've listened to Carola's schlager entry for Eurovision in English (requires Real Player). Obviously she took my advice and ran that translation by someone else, so the made up words are gone. Instead she is singing about things being "invinciBALL", "unbreakaBALL" and "insatiaBALL", which cracked me up. I can see a plethora of ball jokes breaking out among the English speakers here once they hear that song.