During winter the brightest colour we have is the blue sky. I love to look at it in all its brightness. But there are other colours to be found which the snow enhances and brings to my attention. When visiting my sleeping little corner of the garden, the rose hips in their red colour brightens my day. Without the snow, they wouldn’t really have caught my eye, beautiful.
In the woods apart from the maturated emerald colour of the firs, the ferns are my favourites. It is something in their light brown colour that is so beautifully contrasted with the snow which causes me to stop and just watch and ponder.
When I set out for a walk, I never really know if the sunset will be outstanding or not. Often I begin the walk some time before the sunset is at its height with bright colours contrasted with the failing light. This cold evening we started walking first to the north and then turned east and then south. The evening was already turning quite dark and we decided to walk across the fields to enjoy the last of the light . Then suddenly the sun said goodbye in a splendid show of golden colours. Speechless one stands there trying to comprehend the beauty, but it surpasses my mind and in this moment solace is mingled with impatience. Solace to sense something magnificent, impatience to not be able to grasp the beauty in its essence, just to watch it from the outside.
There are few things I like as prepare for Christmas. I think it is the short and cold days that ask for spending cosy days in the kitchen, preparing with cakes and chocolates and truffles…and of course our gingerbread town. My sister and I have for over 20 years made a gingerbread town for Christmas. The challenge consists of making it both tasty and also appealing for the eye. This town has changed its apparence a little every year, but the church and the train have always been present. Last year I added an abside to make it a little more a line a cathedral. Here are some pictures showing this year’s town, the summit of preparations.
Before I put the church together I decorate the parts standing up. The most difficult stage is done, to put it together with melted sugar. A family that is a little late for mass… This is a gift from my brother and his wife. They bought it in U.S.
There is few things as beautiful as fog in the morning a winter day… A walk that lasted some hours, cold but very beautiful.
I love these lonley roads, especially on Sunday forenoons when people prefer being at home, I suppose taking a long breakfast. There is a silence in the air created, I think, by the low temperature, as if every creature is economising with even the callings to save some energy. Even the thoughts become sparse, the mind listening to the sound of birds flapping and one’s own footsteps in the snow.
The snow comes and goes, and with it the reflection of the sun on the ground. One never really knows how the walk will turn out, as this walk with Toby. We had been waking for one and a half hour then suddenly the sun found its way through the clouds and we are standing there bathed in winter evening light. I appreciate these gems of moments very much. I think it is because I am not in control, and thus can receive it as a gift.
It was more than seven years ago. I got up before the others in the house. It was the month of April, thus nature was not in her complete spring colours, but the mornings were bright, full of smells and sounds. Toby was just some months old and as all puppies, an early bird. This particular morning we took a stroll along our little lake. While standing by the edge of the lake, the air together with the rising sun created an almost unreal feeling. Toby was fascinated by the water, but also by the light I think. He sat for a long time just looking at the surface. It was a lovely time which I still would like to return to, the silence, the light, the warm air.
Toby by the lake
As the years have passed I have tried to realise that some moments just don’t repeat themselves. They remain there in your soul accompaning you through life. Toby isn’t a puppy anymore, the lake is different.
Some months ago my sister and I was returning home from a walk with the dogs. Passing by the lake at another place I was suddenly struck by the same feeling and the same ambience. He sat there, looking at the lake, now seven years old, attentive. Just a moment of silence, now at dusk and the lake partially covered by ice. A quick feeling of gratefulness and surprise came over me to, to just for some seconds, get hold of the same feeling of a slight unreality created by sun and water.
Wonderer of Nature 