Tag: winter

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.

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.

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.

The old man in the wood