When it rains, the world takes a long exhale. Mother Nature sighs, wilts, lets her feelings run wild. She sometimes falls sideways, whimsical and adventurous. Other days she’s trickling slow, taking her sweet time to ponder the seasons and flow with the wind. The north shore is a treasure trove of magical forests, competing with Lake Superior for attention, yet wholly content by their inland home. Cradled by cedars and pines, I was prancing within a magical nook of forest: a mossy heaven of wiry trees that longed for interaction. They longed to be felt, seen, known, leaned on. The scent of petrichor was strong. The chilled rain embraced the needles and my fingertips, leaving them cupping heat from my breath and nestling in the warm pockets of my beloved raincoat.

When was the last time you embraced melancholy? I like to think of the word as pensive, woeful, gloomy in the highest sense. It’s a feeling that stimulates creativity, playfulness, an extra-sensory awareness of your surroundings. A fuel for discovery. Take Stutterheim founder, Alexander Stutterheim. On the Swedish island of Arholma, he unearthed his recently passed grandfather’s old raincoat. An artifact of a loved one. A timeless piece imbued with meaning, one to embrace. It was this heavy, functional article of clothing that inspired his first creation, and continues to weave into the designs we know today. It was a feeling of melancholy, of the loss of a loved one yet the discovery of a treasure, that fueled the company’s handmade creations. When I was nestled in the woods of the north shore, hugged by my Stutterheim, I felt it. A calm, childlike nostalgia, sadness for days past but gratitude for the moment. It was a dreary springtime playfulness – running from one tree to another, grasping branches, shielding from rain. The canopy of trees consumed me, as if to say, “Yes – go. Climb. Play. Jump. Run – Feel.” [Read more…] about Springtime Melancholy in Stutterheim