To me, no other spring flower is more beautiful than the colourful crocus. I have a very special connection to this vernal bloom.
It is without a doubt the first delicate living item that captured my attention, when I was a child. I recall running around on the meadows of Slovakia, when the first green grass was exposed after the snow of winter slowly melted away. As the brilliance of the first sun rays and the early birdsong defined the nature, the new green carpet was littered with these precious gems, in all colours, in all shapes and all sizes. It was the first wild flower which name I learned and which I knew how to recognize. And interestingly, the name is the same in Slovakian, Swedish, Danish and English.
Thus even today, the first blooming crocuses around my house hold my undivided attention. I almost hold my breath every year, as they start pushing relentlessly through the frozen ground already in January.
Finally, as we cross into spring and their beautiful crowns open when drenched in the first sunshine, I feel like the richest woman on earth, while my patio becomes adorned with sapphire and gold.
I was born under the Tatra Mountains, to a Czech father and a Slovak mother. I grew up in Sweden and lived almost ten years in North Carolina.
More than a decade ago my line of work took me to Denmark, where I live today. My home, which I share with the man that holds my heart, lies in the northerly part of a Danish peninsula, in the proximity of endless, wide and pristine westbound sandy beaches, surrounded by the rough and untamed North Sea.
My writing is defined by reflections on my cosmopolitan past and my intriguing present. Ultimately I try to convey in words and images my personal thoughts and feelings about life itself, with all its magic, natural splendour and the beauty of simple pleasures.