Sometimes you find yourself in an encounter that you did not expect. The white raindeer was not as shy as the others, and to come as close as we did was something very special.
We found the raindeers crossing the river and we followed them over the plains
On our way to look at and hopefully to buy one or two milking cows of an old landrace called rödkulla, we visited a national parc called Norra Kvill. There is a 900 years old oak there. Unfortunately we never had time to see it. However, we walked a trail around a beautiful lake quite high up in the stony hills covered with old firs and pines. And not to forget, we ate a delicious lunch out in the open, with a big stone as our table.
September offers both dewy mornings…
… and golden afternoons.
There is something special about leaving a slient life for a while and enter into a greater silence as a vacation. Perhaps it tells that the life you have chosen, or det place you have chosen, is the right one. The destination this year was Funäsfjällen, some 8 hours farther up north. Nature offered us Autumn beauty in the mountains as it is at its peak.
Heading towards the mountains
To see the mountains in front of you, while still walking among the mountain birches, is hard to describe, breathing very fresh air for soul and mind.
I remember this lunch, sitting on the slope of the mountain, looking at the lake far beneath and on Norwegian mountains on the other side. The dogs loved it especially Ajax, who curled up beside me.
I am sitting in the living room with the Christmas tree on my right hand and a crackling fire in the tile stove on my left. Both the night and day have been stormy and the mild spring feeling turned into dry and cold winter weather, but with a clear light blue sky. A day like this one, my thoughts turn to the warm colours of autumn. There are two species that stand out, perhaps because of their soft lilac colour, October aster and the autumn crocus.
While the October aster is hardier with small flowers in abundance, the autumn crocus is more gentle and on the verge of surrealistic. You find it there in the bare soil of the flowerbed without any fragrance and without leaves to accompany the weak flowers, but with a colour that even the bright roses of summer would be proud of.
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From Where I Stand...
Wonderer of Nature 