These are photos of an allotment area situated in the suburbs northwest of Stockholm. When I was littler (though probably older than you'd think) I used to fantasize about making a movie depicting a war between rivaling blocks here.
Of course you can't have an allotment house without a flag...
or a television set.
Many allotment gardens resemble miniature farms more than anything else.
And then...
as though divided by a straight line...
the landscape changes.
It seems not even allotment areas escape the class divide.
Some people actually use there gardens for gardening - !
My mum.
It was a cold day, and the whole time we were there I had this poem by Werner Aspenström in my head:
Om tio tusen år smälter isen.
Det infrusna barnet lossnar
och återupptager sin lek:
skapar av pinnar och kottar
tjur, ko och kalv
samt en gärdesgård mot döden.
And in my translation:
In ten thousand years time the ice will melt
The frozen child will get loose
and resume the game:
create of sticks and pine cones
bull, cow and calf
and a fence against death.
Then we left for the dark green of the woods, and a Christmas Day sip of my brother-in-law's Jamaica Blue Mountain.
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