A very special playground

Our city, Jyväskylä, is called “valon kaupunki” which means “town of light”. Well, the city council want it to be called that way. This means, on the dark days of the year in winter, there are many places which are enlightened in different ways. I have been posting some pictures of our bridge already.

I do not always agree with that. I think if the city’s financial status is so bad, that people cannot get any appointment in public healthcare, if the matter is not urgent, then we should hire some doctors instead of spreading so lamps to places where nobody is walking.

But, on the other side, it is also gorgeous in some ways. These pictures are from a city playground where I used to play a lot when I was small. It had a very beautiful atmosphere…

The pictures are a bit old, I have to excuse my slow posting frequency. It was taken a month ago. It is now much brighter, alhamdulillah. I saw the sun again!

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Noctilucent cloud – ugly name for a beautiful cloud

… which, indeed, is more frozen water chrystals than clouds itself, which can consist also of frozen water, but also of water droplets.

Noctilucent clouds, also night shining clouds are located about 76 to 85 kilometers high.

Just awesome, interesting also that the phenomenon of these most high clouds ever is still not fully understood, despite all the fancy machines we humans have made…

I had the change to witness these beauties, notice the darker clouds on the right corner, which are normal clouds, thus the sun does not shine on them…

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Sunset … again

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Another shot from our trip, a fountain on the lake, and well, the sunset.

People are complaining that sunsets are a cliché, something overdone, thousand times seen.

For me, every moment alive is a blessing from Allah, and none of these moments are in vain, so is every sunset a new end for a lived day, which will never be lived again. And every end for a day means inshaa Allah, after the dark, a new dawn, a new day full of endless possibilities.

If they only knew…

The rose from this picture is dried by now. It has lost its beauty and scent, no one will enjoy the bright colors anymore.

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But this rose was a part of a very special occasion, which drove us to tears. No tears of sorrow, it was tears of joy.

An evening to remember.

I received this flower as a gift on a saturday, few weeks ago. We were gathering in the mosque as usual. But it was not an usual afternoon.

On this saturday another new sister joined our community and said her shahada, which is the testimony, that there is only one God worthy of worship, and that Muhammad, peace and blessings upon him, is the last messenger.

When I think of the beauty of the rose, and how it’s gone by now, I remember that the words from the sister are not forgotten or gone. Nor are the words from the thousands other women and men, who enter islam every year, and they will always remember their shahada as the words, which gave their hearts the true peace.

Peace, and the knowledge, that nothing in this world happens in vain, that none of us is meaningless, and that life has a higher purpose.

The knowledge and peace kings and rulers would fight for, if they only knew…