I think that for the first time ever I went to see the Valborg pyre. I don’t care so much about the origin of the tradition – watching the flames consume the fuel against the backdrop of the bright spring evening was all I needed to know. It was such a relaxing and soothing sight that left me with feelings of respect and awe.
I couldn’t help thinking of all the people that have, through time, gathered around campfires to keep warm and safe. In 2016, on 30 April, in a green spot of a Swedish town, kids were running around with marshmallows on twigs. People were orbiting around the huge pile of wood, feeding the flaming patches. I took some pictures with my phone, stepping back once in a while to avoid the rain of ashes. Eventually I walked back home with a sense of completion and with hair smelling of thick smoke.