Colour feast Among the Tulips

The tulips are in their prime. Every day new buds burst into bloom, following the beauty of the daffodils, whose flowers now are dried and their seeds are maturing.

Lunch with a view

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.

No spring without the snowdrop

Inconspicuous colour, but if you humble yourself and smell it, you will be surprised by its strong fragrance, a mixture of lilies and honey.

Spring is close

Nature is shifting its appearance, winter is in the process to change into spring. Late winter and early spring are both present: The snow is still here and the nights are cold, but the sun warms the ground during the day, softening the ground and melting the snow, making it slowly give way to earth and dead straw.

This evening gave perhaps the most beautiful sign of spring. I was out walking with Toby, and as we were almost home I heard the blackbird a little hesitantly, in the forest. We stopped and listened, rejoicing in the beautiful song.

Yesterday he came much closer and there was no hesitation in his voice. I was out removing old fence net in the corner of a big field some hundred metres from the farm. The fence streched along the forest edge of the pine forest on the other side of the ditch. As I stood there with the sun shining on my left side, he began to sing in a tree very close to me. His song echoed in the forest and together with the sunshine, epitomized the reasons why I have chosen this life.

My little friend the blackbird.

An old man in the wood

I have a favourite trail. It stretches over fields, pastures, through forests and on country roads. Though not long, it is varied and it also takes me past one of the most beautiful little farms in the area. The house is situated far from the main road surrounded by fields and trees. A river runs next to it and passes an old broken water mill. The farm sleeps, waiting for someone to wake it up.

On my way from the farm, the river is calm after fall.

I have walked this trail for several years, but it always gives me new small surprises, as today. I passed a stone and I noticed the beautiful nuance of the red granit contrasted by the green moss that partly covered it. I kneeled down to catch it on camera. Suddenly I saw not a stone but an old man with green beard. He looked a little stern as if he was, against all odds, determined to stay there for some hundreds years more.

Green Moss

The setting sun shone behind me and gave the moss on the stones a warm colour resembling the colurs on a mild Autumn day.

I came upon a tree…

I was walking along the shore, immersed in my thoughts and many things more. And I came upon a tree, that stood there whispering about the secrets of the sea. Solace for my soul, after all the tales by the tree that I was told.

While I was taking a walk today I suddenly remembered this walk I took in the south of Sweden. So many things have happened since then, but I think the tree is still there gathering still more tales of the sea.

Some walks just remain in your heart.

Winter colours

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.

Sunday colours

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.

A lovely walk 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.