Siberian And Sunny.

Snowdrops

Our first vernal month goes down in history as one of the coldest ever measured. Air streaming directly from Siberia has kept the atmospere frigidly cold and the ground snow covered - but our skies have been unusually sunny for weeks at end, accounting for a seventy year old record.
I have mixed feelings about the cold weather. Indeed it is unbearable when winter is endless, yet I rather have cold, sunny skies, then warm, rainy air.

Nevertheless, a change of seasons is in the process and spring has gotten one foot in. The sun is gaining in strength by each and every day and despite the temperatures hoovering around zero, I decided to bundle up and take a walk in our new neighborhood this past weekend.

We live at the outskirts of the town and thus very quickly I found myself leaving the residential area behind and I begun walking among empty fields. Despite the flat lands, the views came across as absolutely enchanting, my gaze tracing an endless horizon, as the vital sunshine warmed my face. Listening to the singing of the lark, a bird song so significant of these parts, I realized that vernal bloom was covering the surroundings and that unmistakable sense of spring saturated the air. That undefinable yet so tangible perception of awakenings at winters end.

My Walk

My hour long walk inspired me to take up running, something I gave up on last autumn. Thus just before sunrise, every morning this week, I set out onto the frost covered ground, into Siberian conditions, to greet a world that was still asleep. With the moon setting in the west and the imminent sunrise in the east, I ran on a path among barren fields, marveling at the natural beauty.
And as always, nature put my mind to ease...

A lot is occupying my thinking these days, some of the thoughts fill me with anxiety.
Somewhere deep within me there is a sadness gaining hold. The seasonal shift means that summer is getting closer and so is the departure of the man that I love.
Once again, we will be separated for four months and already now this weights heavy on my heart. Having tried it before is actually not making things any easier. Oddly enough, harder. I can only take consolation in my own strength, that one that I found last time around. And in the profound love that we share.

Thus new projects are being planned in my mind, to keep me occupied, the spirits up and the sinister thoughts at bay.
Gardening is on top of the list. 

Forgotten Hyacinths

Our garden is beautiful, but in a simple way and I definitely am not a simple gardener. There is a total lack of vernal bloom - no spring flowers adorn the flowers beds, something I truly miss. And yet, cleaning our greenhouse the other day, I stumbled upon a forgotten pot, left behind by the former owners. It was full of blue hyacinths. The bulbs have survived the winter and were blooming despite the lack of watering - I took it as subtle sign that everything will be well.

I am also planning to undertake a project involving a mural painting. There is a spot above the Provence inspired stove area in our kitchen, in form of a little alcove in the wall. It absolutely screams for a tranquil French still-life. I am indeed excited about the prospect of reviving my old hobby - painting. Right now I am in stages of planning and preparations, in search of suitable paint and motif.

Danish Passport

I have officially become Danish and that leaves me with a sense of a bittersweet finale. A door is closing upon the first half of my adult reality. Yet simultaneously another one is opening wide.
I went to a photographer having a picture taken for my new driving license and passport. I had to gasp when the photographer returned the images to me, as I met the gaze of a middle aged woman. What happened to that young girl that used to smile at me for a decade, every time I opened my old Swedish passport? I guess she is forever gone - but maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Aging used to bother me quiet a bit. It still does and probably always will, yet I have started to slowly surrender myself to time.
Would I like to be twenty again? I am not so sure. Life is short, yet the magic lies in its ephemerality. I have done exactly what I was suppose to do and what I wanted to do. I have no regrets and no need to go back in time.
Ultimately I will happily trade my youth for the privilege of unforgettable experiences and priceless knowledge.

Endless Views Near Our Home

The Same Views At Dawn - The Setting Moon

The Same Views At Dawn - The Rising Sun