Every April, when the the garden starts flowering – with all the crocuses and scillas and hyacinths and later on the corydalis – I am convinced that April is the best and most beautiful month of them all.

And then May comes, and I am in love with the world, and April can go and hide itself under a rock.

Everything turns green. The streets in our part of Spånga, that throughout winter and early spring were just streets, now seem to consist mostly of trees and bushes. The hedgerows swell out into the streets, bushes hang over fences, and trees tower over them all. Truly you can stand in our street and look along it, and not see a single house.

And things flower, and smell. Cherry trees and apple trees, hackberry and spiraea and lilac… No showy or dramatic blossoms competing for attention, just masses of white and pale pink and lilac, all in harmony with each other.

I still remember the first time I saw our street. It was about a year before we actually moved here. We came here for the wedding of our friends who live here. We stepped off the bus, walked 50 meters to the corner and turned, and this street opened ahead of us. It was like a dream, like stepping into a place of magic: lush, welcoming, vibrantly alive.

It was because of that moment that we really moved here. Every spring I relive that feeling and I am so grateful and happy that we found this place.