Life as a nature family

Just a few weeks ago, the maiden fleet of our little "Granite & Green" paddling lineup became complete: two single sea kayaks and one 3-person canoe are now safely stored in our garage, just waiting for their first adventures. My brother Emanuel and I took the boats out for a test run at the end of May, and we can safely say: it was money well spent! Now, we hope that many of our cabin guests (and anyone else who's interested!) will get to enjoy a few paddling trips. After all, there’s no better or more direct way to experience the landscapes up here in West Sweden – Bohuslän and Dalsland.

Bohuslän and Dalsland are both Swedish regions that aren't necessarily considered heavyweights among Swedish landscapes in terms of international fame. People know Småland (because of Astrid Lindgren), Lapland (because of reindeer and the Northern Lights), and maybe Dalarna (because of the wooden horses) – but after that, things usually get a bit thin.

Having the privilege of a small, excellent fishing spot just 200 meters from your own front door is incredibly special. But keeping the uniqueness of this situation constantly in mind can be difficult. As creatures of habit, we tend to get used to everything, and what is special often fades during a relentless process of normalization.

It was the most timeless period of my life—the first year of Corona, 2020. Parental leave, a newborn baby at home, and secluded life in a forest area outside Gothenburg—with friends visiting who were also on parental leave. A wonderful, surreal mix of emotions, blended with a dose of uncertainty and worry. And into that came the realization that I had overlooked something completely ordinary and obvious, yet absolutely magnificent in my life—because it seemed too complex, too dangerous, etc.: mushroom picking.