Dear Homeland [SnufMin]

5

There's something important for you. Don't leave it behind. Else misfortune will fall upon you.

That's what the cards said.

Snufkin took them and put them back in his bag, before thinking about the message he had just been given. It was the end of fall, and the cold beginning of winter. The soft glimpse of yellow light from the campfire, outside of the tent, was the only light of his lonely night. The wind blew harder on the tent, and Snufkin shivered. He adjusted his scarf and lied down, covering himself with his blanket, before closing his eyes. He couldn't sleep yet.

"Something important for me?" whispered Snufkin softly.

He didn't own anything important that he could eventually leave behind. He wasn't the materialistic type anyway. As the sound of the wind blowing made its melody to rock Snufkin to sleep, the Mumrik thought about it thoroughly. Ah, it was winter already. It was time for him to make his way to the South. He hadn't decided where he would go, but he would just keep on walking and see where it leads, like he always does. He thought about the Snork, who was also going South and had proposed him to go with him in his flying ship. That was a nice proposal, but he liked walking, and most of all, he wanted to travel because that allowed him to be alone.

What was important for him? The sound of the waves against the sand, the sound of the wind between the tall trees in the deepest forests, the sound of birds chirping celebrating an early spring. The sound of the fish rustling against the water, the sound of the crackling fire in the darkest nights and the sound of his mouth-organ at his loneliest times. Simple things, things no one could ever steal from him, things that didn't belong to him yet he owned them all.

Soon, the Moomintrolls will be hibernating. Tomorrow will be the last day. And then he would be alone, on his way to the South.

Maybe he shouldn't have asked the cards. Now he was feeling a bit nervous about what would fall upon him if he didn't realize yet what he was going to leave behind. He hadn't expected that, he thought they would tell him something more obvious, like directions he should go. He didn't expect the cards to tell him not to go until he found out what was important for him.

Since he couldn't sleep, despite the tranquil melody the wind was whistling for him, he took his harmonica and started playing. He got inspired to play a winter tune, that he had composed during one of his snowy journeys: quite sad and nostalgic, but with a little note of hope at the end. The wind accompanied his tune. The crackling fire, not extinguished yet, was adding a little rhythm to the song.

Calm. Tranquil. Cozy. What a beautiful night.

He thought about the ones who were hibernating during the winter, and how serene that must be. If he were to stay in one place during the winter, he would probably hibernate as well. He wasn't so good with the cold. Hibernating would be like sleeping, but for a much longer time, and not realizing that you've slept for so long. You would close your curtain to a snowy window, and then when you'd open it in the morning it would be sunny and warm. That must be comfortable for sure.

But he would have missed so many beautiful things! He would have missed the first flowers blooming, the first birds coming from the South and the poetic sight of the snow melting under the first sunbeam. He would miss so many adventures awaiting for him, he would miss the sight of faraway volcanoes entering eruptions, he would miss the cold, lonely and frightening winter that was so inspiring to him.

Snufkin stopped playing and instead, he dreamt, he dreamt until he felt into slumber and started dreaming for real.

But the truth is, he wasn't dreaming. There are the kinds who can dream, those who have what they call lucid dreams, which is extraordinary, and there are those who cannot dream – they just wake up empty. Snufkin was the kind to wake up empty, no matter how much he would sleep; he would awake and his slumber would just have felt like closing his eyes for a second. Maybe that's why he didn't enjoy sleeping much. It was boring and such a waste of time. But, when he was listening to Moomintroll's dreams, or even nightmares, he would feel amazed, and almost jealous his friend could see so many things and feel so many emotions just through a night vision.