Tag: beauty

An early morning run

It had rained a lot the day before. Toby and I went for a run in the morning. The sun was already up, bringing colour and warmth to trees and plants. The dew sparkled in silver on the grass in the field we passed.

Running through the forest we just stopped amazed by the sunlight shining through the trees.

Still in the shadow, we could see the floodlit trees before us. A blessed moment of beauty.

Spring was here, went and returned…hopefully to stay

Spring is here and with it the birds, the starlings skillfully mimicking their fellow birds, while enthusiastically flapping their wings, the larks’ joyous exclamation as they rise in the air, the cranes’ melancholic calling echoing from the moor, the frogs singing in the lakes and ponds. Not forgetting the fragrance, first damp forest air, then coltsfoot, followed by the rising sap of the trees and bushes. Euphoria, as life returns to these parts of the world.

The spring  flowers have started to bloom too, daffodils, snowdrops, crocuses and early tulips.

It is strange to think that for just one and a half month ago the landscape was covered with a thick layer of snow on top of the deep frozen ground.

But a week ago a so called ‘setback’ arrived with 30 cm of snow and strong wind. We did our best to feed the birds that had arrived. I have never seen so many birds at our bird feeders. We tried to figure out what different kinds of food could satisfy all the species. Thankfully we have barns with cattle and sheep. This showed itself to be safe havens for many birds among them song thrushes.

Some of the birds feeding.

Thankfully it only lasted two days. Then it melted and the spring returned. This is so typical for April here; one day spring, then winter returns for a day, telling that we live close to the Arctic. This setback was tougher than most though, the coldest in 68 years.

A sunny day between the snowy days. Is it so late in the year now, the sun quickly melts the snow. Toby is sunbathing for a while.

An old variety of daffodils, which was already growing here when my parents arrived here.

I’m happy now for the birds and plants, thriving in the damp warm spring. There are few things that fill me with such joy than to see life returning here. I’m always amazed by the transformation.. I hope both plants and animals will get a good year in all respects.

Squill, one of my favourite spring flowers.

A Sunday walk in the snow.

A clear sky, the setting sun, long shadows.

Just the two of us this afternoon. He is always ahead of me.

A shift between cold weather and thaw. The trees are still frozen which makes the trunks shine in silver.

The “dagsmeja” has returned.

A walk in silence, thoughts and awe. We passed the lonely farm, a place of such beauty and peace.

Beauty… I try to capture her with my camera, but she skillfully evades my attempts. I try to describe her, but I’m lost for words. I cannot keep her; she visits me on her own terms. I’m grateful, I can clearly see, I’m not the master but she.

Thaw

The weather shifts quickly from thaw to full winter. However, I could not resist capturing a beautiful moment when I walked across the ploughed fields of our neighbour a while ago. There is a beauty in the contrast between the dark brown ridges and the last snow still in the furrows.

Winter walk

At last a peaceful walk in that characteristic yellow light of winter.

The golcrests accpmpanied us in the forest, the mallards as we walked along the still lively river, and for some time we followed wolf tracks from one wolf.

To walk, breathe the fresh air, watch the low-key beauty, without demands that is for me a true rest.

Only around half past one, but the sun is already setting.
Toby full of enthusiasm by the brook.
The lake was frozen.

Nature Reserve of Conero

Autumn is here and winter is knocking on the door. I have been busy to tidy up in the garden and planting my garlic in the last minute. I still have the variety I got from Provence 2019, a hardy sort. This year I was not in Provence even if I sometimes remember the special atmosphere of the place of st. Maxime de Sainte Baume and the grotto of saint Marie Madeleine, and I am feeling as if I were there. I wonder if I will visit that place again.

This year I went to a pilgrimage to our Lady’s house in Loreto, an extraordinary place which has left a mark on my mind and soul, especially the presence of Our Lady in this little house of brick.

But you cannot go to a country without at least take a glimse of its nature. Close to Loreto there is a nature reserve called Conero. A lovely walk up into the mountains from the Village of Sirolo.

Visiting in January the village was sleeping. The bus was leaving us at a bus stop in the lower part of the village and with the help of a map we found our way up the hills towards the centre of the city. There is something very fascinating about tourist places out of season, everything is closed, as if abandoned, resting before people come to consume on its riches, here sun and sea. I like when it is sleeping. I feel as if the town is as if it should be, but at the same time it is strange to see a town so shifting in its life between summer and winter so dependent on tourism.

As we headed up into the mountains following a trail to get a beautiful view, we passed a sign informing us the trail was closed without further notice because of some sort of a danger. It was however unclear what the danger would consist of apart from perhaps a hint about a broken fence, so we took the chance to continue. I don’t regret it. The view was spectacular giving a view of the yellow beach contrasted by the white cliffs along the coast of the Adriatic sea, breathtaking to stand there at the edge looking down, feeling almost dizzy by the height but still immersed in the beauty of the experience.

On our way back we had just the time to go down a steep hill to follow the same shore we had watched from above. I loved the feeling of walking there on the deserted beach, the waves breaking against the smoothe stones and soft sand. Though calm, the wind was fresh after the rain the day before, giving a foretaste of spring.

I saw him coming from afar, an old lonely man with just his walking stick. A peaceful sight, him walking in the middle between the white cliffs and the calm sea. Slowly he came closer, just to pass us, and the scene was gone, so fast, and we were alone again.

I wonder sometimes how often he uses to walk there, if I would meet him again if I returned. Perhaps he has just taking up the walk again now when the sunbathing tourists are gone, him and the beach and sea left to their own thoughts.

A short visit to a national parc

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.