Crossing the vernal equinox this week, we have officially entered the second season. Winter however seems to think otherwise. The Ice Lady never leaves voluntary and fights to the bitter end to remain in reign in my part of the world.
Her wrath is endless and currently absolutely fierce, making this March one for the record books as the coldest ever meassured.
Nature and animals yearn for spring and so do we. Everywhere I look, there is a pristine blanket of spring snow and the easterly winds blow arctic air over us, keeping the temperatures below freezing.
The only vernal sign is the light. The sun is raising earlier and setting later by each passing day. There is something altered about the daylight as well, as it slowly turns platinum instead of golden.
Despite the final fury of the winter, a point of no return has been reached and that universal feeling of an approaching seasonal shift can clearly be perceived - the best time of the year has already begun.
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.