By Lake Villarica

2/8/11 - Second of a two day trip to Pajala, Jukkasjärvi, and Kiruna

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Our last stop is Kiruna. We have lunch at a buffet that becomes a nightclub at night, then climb a hill to the city’s church. The church is beautiful: dark red with flying buttresses and a steep roof that nearly reaches the ground. The spire stretches high into the cloudy, evening sky, topped with gold and not intimidating in its height. After taking several pictures, I proceed up the steps and decide to pose for Sonja’s camera, opening the tall, heavy door slightly and smiling down the black steps. Within two seconds, I recognize the thick, wrought iron handle is freeze-burning my ungloved palm. “Not a good idea,” I say, dropping the door and shaking my hand. I open the door with my gloved, left hand and slip inside before the door closes. I forget about the stinging in my right; a piano is being played. It is filling the hall with balanced, graceful richness. He is playing Nocturne No. 2 in Eb by Chopin. I forget to listen to the musicality, how he is pulling the notes and ends of phrases and making shapes. In from the beautifully cold and silent, blue-hued white, I am struck by how the light of a sunset, obscured outside, dusts the church’s reds and browns.

I continue on the bold carpet,

Still stunned,

Finding the shore of Lake Villarrica

In oranges and yellows.

By her waters,

Deep, with heart, with control,

Reflecting in her beautiful stillness

The warm, subtle light,

I partake. I love.

The sun

In a trill, slips

Beneath the horizon.

Quiet golds remain

Beneath the midnight blue.

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