Ruska tour in Lainiolompolo

" What celebration is there in those colors of death," thought the ancients of the fall; an abundant summer behind and a difficult season ahead. There was still time to harvest the last crops from the forests, gather the last firewood, the last berries, net the last fish of the summer and pursue the summer-fattened forest grain.

Worriedly guessing about the coming winter, whether the stocks are enough, or whether hunger is knocking at the door from the end of spring.

What about the sufferings of the ancients today. Lies at the foot of the tree and Admires the copper-tinted heather, the yellow birch leaves and the red-brown ground of the fell slope. There is space in it.

That he still carried it here and there, carrying his rucksack. Takes measurements of himself and his condition. Not tripping over tree roots and rots that came out of the ground, feeling like he's still quite a man. Escape the world's flood of news, where faith in the future does not gain much ground.

However, there is a fell behind that open space, named Lainio. It has been standing for about a million years and nothing has changed since then, which has now been smoothed over a bit by the ice ages. Impassively, it has watched the forest around it grow, fall, rot, burn, and grow again. Man has moved, turned the rocks covered with green moss, but has not managed to destroy the nature of the fell.

If the human race knows how to destroy a lot, sometimes it also knows how to protect. That's why even a layman leaning his head against the trunk of a tree can look at and feel the landscape shaped by nature here, where neither the forest industry nor mass tourism has shaped the view.

And even if he looks at it narrowly and only from one direction, he can say that all I see is my Lapland - the old and eternal one.

A wind that is too warm for the time of year blows across the face.
However, a warm wind is a warm wind and its gentle touch softens the tension on the cheekbones, the face relaxes and an outside observer could see a stubble-jawed man dozing at the foot of a tree with his eyes half closed, with a small hint of a smile flickering on the corner of his mouth.