I have been in Tampere many times before, but this time it was different. It took me a long time to pick up my camera, because I felt I had already photographed every single place worth photographing. The creativity was gone. The rainy days didn't help either. Even though I was on vacation, my mood was clouded, and I lost a bit of hope in my once shining, beloved destination. Was the magic gone?

It began to change when I started photographing again and realised what was missing: The feeling of being focused on the present moment: Forgetting everything else and trying to see the best and the most beautiful in every place and person. I believe that how you see and capture moments is a reflection of who you really are. It's a gift, a trained eye and perspective to see the good everywhere you go - it's not about being good at creativity, it's about creativity being good for you. Especially when travelling, there is so much to unravel in every encounter, whether it's the food, the culture, the geography, the architecture or the people you meet.

On my way to the Arboretum, an old man started talking to me. It was one of those rare beautiful summer days and he looked sprightly, not to say young, in his rather short shorts. He was on his way to the city hospital for a check-up that his daughter had arranged for him.

What I loved about this conversation was that he spoke with such enthusiasm about Finland and the beautiful summer days, the lush green of the leaves and meadows and the deep blue of the lakes as we walked side by side along the shore. "Just look around," he said, pointing with both hands at the birch trees and Lake Pyhäjärvi, as if he wanted to embrace the country with his arms wide open.

He showed me where he used to live in the Pyynikki area and where he went swimming every day. Memories were flashing by and he started to laugh because he remembered some youngsters who tried to climb up a chimney of a former knitwear factory near the place where he went swimming and the fire brigade had to rescue them because they were afraid to come down.

The old man told me about his mökki with a sauna a few hundred kilometres away from Tampere, where it's always nice to spend a long weekend.
I was inspired by his way of seeing the world and the present just by loving the simple things in life. I suppose when you 'survive' more than seventy or eighty cold and dark winters you develop a great appreciation for the little things like the sun and the nature around you. I felt a bit bad that I couldn't see this beauty straight away, because I was so focused on my worries this time, even though I wasn't on my way to the hospital, just out for a walk.

Maybe some encounters are just meant to enrich you in a memorable way. The conversation with this old man whose name I don't even know was somehow eye-opening for me. His openness to talk about the things that make him happy probably also revealed the secret of Finland: the triple s: the simplicity that nature predicts, the summer days that are wonderfully carefree and reminiscent of childhood, the slowness of everyday life with a bonus s: the sauna and its soothing heat.

The magic is still there if you look closely enough. The young boy riding his bicycle with a pizza wrapped in a transparent foil on the rack of his bike, the old woman who decides to wear her shopping bag on her head because it is starting to rain, the art and craft shop that sells accessories for plush hobby horses. All these little joyful, a bit quirky, but life-affirming acts that sweeten the day show the sweetness and secret of Finland. I am sure there are more stories to be told and pictures to be taken.