Last autumn when it started to get chilly I went and bought myself a nice pair of knit gloves so my fingers would not freeze when I biked. They worked great. In late November we had a huge storm that trashed much of the coast. Coincidentally, it was the start of the Christmas season here and we went to town and took in some festivities including seeing the 40 foot Xmas tree in the town square blown over in the wind. Anyhow, the next morning I went on a bike ride to survey the damage. I was wearing my gloves at first though the morning was actually kind of pleasant. I took them off and stuffed them in the pockets of my jacket and kept riding looking at what the storm had done. Later on I checked for my gloves and, damn! one had fallen out of my pocket. Stupid me. I stuck them in the wrong jacket pockets. I thought I remembered where it must have fallen out and traced my path to when I took them off but no luck. My damn glove was gone. I really liked those gloves too. Oh, well, I thought I better get another pair. So I did and they were fine all winter.
What does this have to do with anything?
Yesterday I am out walking the dog. I take a wrong turn in the forest and wind up on the main road that runs from town out to the beach at Tylösand and past where we live. We are walking back along the bike path enjoying the beautiful morning. For some reason I happen to look to my left and I see a glove hanging from a tree branch. It immediately catches my attention because it seems somehow familiar. I grab it off the branch. Damn, this looks just like the glove I lost 5 months ago. Knit glove, gray and black, funky strap at the wrist. Hey, could it be? I stuck it in my jacket pocket, the same jacket I was wearing when I lost my glove and thought I would see if it was the match to the glove I still had. (I am somewhat loathe to throw things away. I figured back in December that if I lost one glove there was every chance I would lose another and if I kept the odd glove, it might come in handy.)
To make a long story longer, I got home fished around for the other glove and sure enough, the one hanging from the tree was an exact match to the one I had tossed on a shelf at home. Fit perfectly and except for being somewhat dirty it was none the worse for wear.
There is a sort of agreement here that if you are walking along and find something like a glove or scarf or cap or something like that you hang it on a nearby branch so it is visible. Someone evidently did that with my missing glove, though it was at least a mile from where I was sure that I had lost it in November.
I’m not exactly sure what this has to do with moving to Sweden, but I was happy to find my long lost glove.
And here it is, the Prodigal Glove.