arrival in Penijõe

When I have finished packing then Kalle drives me to Penijõe.
Golden low sunlight shines through thin forest. Leans then on horizon and throws pinkish glow on treetops.
In Penijõe there’s already a cyclist. Walks around with a helmet on his/her head. I back more than two meters away and build my wigwam on the other end of the grass field. Opposite the toilet on a pole lives a crane. Penijõgi river shimmers away into the sunset. Kalle refuses to spend the night in the lobby of my tent and drives back to the city. A family walks by and discusses among themselves whether it is cold to camp. Well, guesses the father.
I boil some water from the river to heat up food and tea and to have a reason to sit outside. Flocks of geese fly towards Matsalu bay. I always think of the birds as coming back here, coming home. Unless it is just a childrearing trip.
The surroundings chirp and whistle. A bittern somewhere. A couple of insects fly past. Fresh coolness is added into the air. A star appears.
The RMK hike seems to be different this time. Quarantine situation. I am different. RMK (state forestry department) is different. Their understanding of usefulness is too narrow and their time horizon too close to the present moment.
from Penijõe to Rumba

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