Tag: sweden

Flooded

The weather shifts quite fast. The rain has almost washed away all snow now. Not for long though, the snow will return on Sunday. However, at present the grounds are saturated with water, and in the low parts flooded.

As I passed a flooded area, I couldn’t avoid noticing the beauty in the reflection of the bare trees in the water. Even if Spring is far away, that puddle gave me a foretaste of it. I think the bluetits, great tits, marsh tits and all the other wild birds had a similar feeling, as they sang more forefully along the way.

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.

The snow is here

Winter is here and with it the snow. It is beautiful, especially how it lightens up the long dark evenings and renders the morning and day the crystal beauty of a fairytale.

These two last walks I have come across a flock of whooper swans resting in the snow on a normally quite wet field. Their white or gray feathers, depending on age, and light yellow beak against the white winter landscape is a sight to be seen. To my joy they have accepted my presence as I stand there looking at them. Only their very soft song is heard in the stillness of winter, followed by the rustling sound of their feathers as they rouse. I’m impressed by their toughness and grateful to be able to watch their beauty.

I haven’t brought my camera with me on these walk. Though sad from one point of view, some moments are perhaps just meant to be experienced in their simple beauty. In that sense I’m not just an onlooker, but also a partaker in the same moment as them.

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.

Treasures of the forest

The time for berries is here again. It is always with some suspense I walk the first time of the year to the old bog forest of the blueberries. With my backpack stuffed with boxes and my berry picker, I hope I will see a lot of berries, but you never know until you start picking the berries.

This year it was an abundance of berries. It is a lovely place, silence apart from the wind in the pines and small chattering of the birds. I can stay there for hours, not noticing how the time passses.

Toby settles very easily, resting among the blueberry sprigs.

But he guards att the same time, keeping an eye on the surroundings to warn me if anyone is approaching, It has almost never happened that anoyone has come when I have been there.

This year the wild raspberries are also having a lot of berries. It is a true gift to just be able to walk one or two kilometres and pick as many berries you can. Joy of the countryside

Picnic

Isn’t it one of the most loveliest things to do, to go out on a picnic in the green, under the trees, among the flowers, listening to the birds?

To just pic a basket, pack some cinnamon buns, prepare some lemonade and be on your way.

A privilege of spring and summer…

Noticing the beauty in the small things from busy ants, to tree roots covered with wood anemones, the rustle of the dead leaves, the peculiar call of the woodpecker, the trees solemnity. Individually and as a whole, they render the gift of awe.

A misty morning

I took a morning walk together with Toby. The mist has always attracted me in its fairytale atmosphere, always a little mysterious.

Arriving to the old barn, gray and sombre, we took a pause enveloped by the saturated air, and looked at the beauty.

Then back again, the mist almost vanished by the sun.