On an uphill, rain sprinkles on me. The drops are not that many and I am more refreshed than anything else. Gradually the cloud goes away. The dark forest envelops me and welcomes me home. Telephone poles have large heaps of squirrel-processed cones at the bottom.
Large boulders speck the forest floor, remnants of the ice age.
I am treated to having the narrow pavement to myself for most of the time for motor traffic is nearly nonexistent. I lose count of the sandboxes. From the top of the highest hill of all, cleared for farmland, there is a breathtaking vista of deep green forest undulating from horizon to horizon. Farms and villages become more frequent, dogs bark at me, a horse bolts away. Soon I am in the small town of Kangasniemi, the farthest point from home.