JAAKKO by CHRISTOPHER LANGE
I stepped out of the sauna, cracked open a beer, and leaned against the railing of the deck. It was a beautiful day, and my host-brothers were in the lake, splashing around with each other. I noticed Jaakko wandering up the path from the waters edge, and he walked past me silently, giving me only a mischievous glance.
One of his trademark expressions.
He returned just as quickly as he’d left, and ran back down to the shoreline with a fishing rod in hand. For the next 15 minutes I watched as he waded out further and further into the gleaming water, casting again and again.
Of course being 7 at night there weren’t many fish out biting, but he refused to give up. I noticed the light on the fishing line, and his posture as he continued to cast, and made a couple of photographs silently from afar.