
The snow is here again


On midsummer eve we, my parents, my sister, and the dogs, visted my older sister and her family’s place about three hours away in the area called the Kingdom of Crystal. It is an area known for its many glass factories, which had their peak in the end of the 19th century.

My sister lives close to an old water mill which has turned into a sort of museum. It is a lovely little place with adjacent old buildings dense with history and stories.

Since I take Toby with me when I go on visits, I am always excused to leave now and then on small walks. I found a beautiful path around the mill pond.

To take an evening walk on midsummer eve has its special atmosphere. This night was light and soft. Since we walked along the pond, the air had a faint fragrance of gale.

The time of the wood anemone is here. The forests, damp meadows, and the road banks of the forests are covered with these small fragrant flowers. Hardy against frost and wind they are a sure sign of spring in our area.

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.


I love the colour of this violet. It is so small that it’s easy to just pass it. But it makes such a beautiful contrast to the white flowers in the forest, so when I encounter with this violet, I stop for a moment to look at it in all its freshness.

I love to walk in the evenings among the dandelions. I was told as a child that if you managed to blow away all the seeds in one try, you could wish for something. I still take up one of them once in a awhile and with some excitement blow at it. The wish? To see the beautiful seeds dancing in the air.

If you follow a minor dirt road not far from here, which leaves the main road to reach some farms further in, you will pass a house that is left to sleep so deep that soon I think no one will be able to kiss it awake. Lilacs grow over the wide stonehege, which also make up part of a root cellar. Old beeches strech their heavy branches over the narrow road. Beauty for all senses.

About 35 years ago there lived a joyful farmer there who managed this little farm meticulously, in a friendly manner. But old age at last got the better of him and he left this life for the eternal one. A cousin of his inherited the house, but she didn’t care for it, nor the farm, just the idea of owning a property. She has never visited it, just left it there. Nature has slowly made the garden into a small charming wilderness.

During my whole life I have watched how the seedlings that took root by the walls of the house, slowly have grown into trees, how the smaller barn with wooden roof at last collapsed and returned to the earth it was made from. Many times I have stopped there dreaming to restore it to that neat little fram it once was. But there is a fascination of the forgotten one with hidden memories. However, when I passed this time I could not resist entering through the one gate that is still hanging on its hinges.

I sat down in the grass among the old apple trees in the meadow of red and yellow primroses. Nothing disturbed the peace and quiet of the garden. I did not feel as an intruder, more of a guest taking part of a flowers feast.

I wonder if anyone will ever live in that house again, call it a home, sit where I sat admiring the flowers, but not as a guest but considering this place as part of their life. What a happy owner it would be.


Light fog in the morning gives such a beautiful beginning of the day.
The aspen has begun to bloom. Just a couple of days ago it still had only buds. Time flies.


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.

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