On Saturday I walked with my two oldest daughters in the north part of Nuuksio wilderness, from lake Saarijärvi to lake Sarkkinen and lake Suolikas, to the narrow neck of land between these two lakes.
It was quiet at Sarkkinen, as the sound from the road does not carry over the hills. And we didn't see anyone else, or hear for that matter, except for some voices which carried over the water at Saarijärvi, from the cottages on the north side, near the road.
(Posting title is from the poem Baby Wrens’ Voices by Thomas R. Smith.)
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