If you have ever wondered why people would want to live in a place with somewhat brutal winters and months of extended darkness, I learned the answer during my six months living in Scandinavia.

When we first arrived in Sweden, it was January, and the country was deep into winter; we only enjoyed daylight for about six hours per day. Though it was often snowy and dreary (see Dark & Stormy Nights), each new day brought three extra minutes of light, and slowly, these minutes added up to the very long and sunny days we experienced by May and June. As the days lengthened., we would often find ourselves confused about the time, sometimes deciding to go outside in the evening to enjoy the beauty before sunset, only to realize that it was 10:30 at night.

The winter white-out of January, which had felt interminable, eventually went into hiding, and spring’s soft, white “puffs” replaced the cold, wet snow (see video below). By late spring, the days were so long it was hard to sleep, and I found myself waking up with the sun’s first light at 3:30 or 4:00 AM, then struggling to fall back to sleep until the alarm rang.

As the days lengthened, the view outside my window transformed in more ways than one. The budding of the trees and flowers was an obvious sign that Stockholm was coming to life, but more subtle evidence also presented itself. First, the light started stretching its legs, reaching closer and closer to the ground instead of just halfway down the building across the square. Soon, local cafes started putting out tables and chairs so that customers could dine on the sidewalk (even when it was still too cold most days).

Every time I looked out my window during those early weeks of Nordic springtime, I saw people kissing. People wouldn’t have pulled their faces out of their hoods and scarves long enough to kiss anyone during the winter. Those frigid months meant that people had to keep their eyes down, carefully calculating each footfall to avoid a dangerous slip or twisted ankle. But by spring, people tipped their faces upward to soak in the sun and the much-needed Vitamin D. 

The cold, dark winter had made for quiet days on the street, but by spring, noise greeted us whenever we opened the windows to release the heat in the apartment. The boulevard teemed with dogs, people, and strollers.

Bicycles and scooters zipped by in massive numbers. It was not unusual to see women riding bikes in cocktail attire or parents precariously balancing children on motorized scooters or bike racks. People seemed to have come out of the woodwork to enjoy life, light, summer, and friends after the long, dark hibernation.  

June also meant graduation time, and Swedish students took high school graduation to a whole new level. Since the drinking age is 18, students had a tradition of renting large, commercial, open-bed trucks to ride around, partying, screaming, dancing, and drinking (see video below). 

When we first arrived in January, it felt like we had all the time in the world to explore every inch of Stockholm. But as our six months of living overseas neared its end, we realized how much we had missed and accelerated our explorations.

With the onset of warmer weather, the weekly flea market in Karlaplan Circle in Ostermalm began every Saturday. We loved strolling around and looking at the wares people were hawking. 

Stockholm is an archipelago, a large city broken into countless tiny islands. At every opportunity, we explored them. One day, we walked Skeppsholmen, a small island near the city center home to the Museum of Modern Art. I had never been to this delightful spot, despite its proximity to our apartment.

I also visited nearby Kastellholmen, home to the iconic Kastellet, a small citadel where the Swedish flag waves to indicate a nation at peace.

As the end of our stay in Stockholm rapidly approached, we realized we had become attached to its beauty and people. We had also learned that enduring the cold, dark days of winter yielded the lovely gift of long and sunny days.

On one of our last evenings, my youngest son and I rode the subway to the nearby island of Sodermalm, where we hiked up to its well-known overlook, Skinnarviksberget. The views were stunning, and we reflected with gratitude on our memories in that remarkable city, even as we longed for home.