Yesterday I had a small pause in riding the bicycle by lake Soltingsträsk, where there is a place for warming up inside a little cabin. Or there used to be, as the cabin was burned down and the chimney was broken in pieces. Even the nearby trees had suffered from the fire.
It is several years since I last was here, so I have no idea how recent the fire was, maybe this spring or early summer, looking at the fireweed growing beside the ruined cabin.
Lake Soltingsträsk is a rather beautiful place, but I haven't visited it often. Below you can see how the lake looked in November 2009. And then I took photographs from inside the cabin as well.
(Posting title is from the poem The Fire of Drift-wood by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.)
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