Extracting birds whilst wading through a swamp has been extremely exciting, novel, and challenging due to the terrain being cold, wet, and sometimes treating you to an unexpected hole that plunges you into mud up to your armpits. Being inside the reed beds feels like the kind of adventure I would previously only have seen through a nature documentary. This location has quickly become my favourite, and I love navigating through the reeds feeling like an adventurer. Experiencing it is as exhilarating as it is exhausting, and managing my energy has been a priority this week as I am beginning to feel fatigued. As exhaustion creeps in, maintaining my integrity and positive outlook is evermore important. 

Simultaneously, the more knowledgable and capable I become, the more excited I am each day to ring. I definitely have caught the bird-bug and am already thinking of where I would want to go ring next.

At the halfway point of my trip I definitely feel myself being tested. My external appearance reflects my internal self quite well: tan skin, wild hair, and eye bags so big that with them I could carry two week’s shopping. The skincare routine has flown out the window, and dressing up means crawling into a hoodie and leggings. In a way, shedding any appreciation for my external appearance is freeing. Here, in a place where I only see the same 10 people, with no social media posts, no cameras, and no acquaintances to bump into, I feel free. I am authentically me, unreachable from the intertwining strings of academia, friendships, love, and money that normally twist through my life, snagging and tripping me. Being here has changed my perspective on how I will choose to live my life. When I return from Sweden, I want to be the brave, honest, and caring person that I see right now, and live my life following my soul (what a lovely Spanish girl always tells everyone! ‘Follow your soul, mariposa’).

My third week has been defined by the other people at the observatory. They have brightened my days, listened to my thoughts and conflicts, and told me fabulous stories about their lives. Yet, I also feel the inescapable pain of never ending good-byes as the volunteers, students, and staff who have been present throughout my stay begin to leave. With each departure I lose a friend who I potentially may never see again. The impermanence of each relationship I have here has both allowed me to open up completely to these strangers, but the sting as people depart only deepens with time. Yesterday, the person I felt closest to at the observatory left. Her absence feels like a hole in my heart, as we would chat daily after work on what interesting things we had seen. Now, silence sits in the room we once shared. Her departure has definitely dampened my mood. I am surprised by my grieving and sadness in parting from someone I have known for only a few weeks, however, the closeness we developed in this time brings me great joy. This friendship is the most unexpected part of my trip so far, and we have both agreed we will make efforts to reunite.