Splinters of Järvelä

There is fresh snow on the ground as I make my way downtown. A passing serene street after another. The camera hangs loosely around my neck, ready for action. But nothing gives. Streets stay quiet. Occasional figures pass in distance, only to disappear from my reach to the white horizon. Some people never seem to leave the place. They are rooted in this town. No need to search for more, happiness is already here. Yet, I left. Flashes from long school walks surface. Those nostalgic moments are now fragments faintly thumbing the minds back. Memories lost in focus and in time. I notice whispering to myself, “you can never go home again”. Then the wind makes a puff of snowflakes dance and I take the first photograph of Järvelä.