Amethyst Stars.

Seven years ago I purchased two plants and planted them together in the same pot. Being still the very inexperienced gardener then, I experimented myself to knowledge and made a few mistakes along the way - as to be expected.

One of the plants completely vanished in the end of the summer, the other kept on going all the way until the first frost in late November. I knew both were perennials, as it said so on the little tags that accompanied the plants. Thus I just let the survivor stand outside during winter, hoping for the best, yet watching it sadly as it slowly dried out, to eventually burn away by subzero temperatures, perishing into only a bundle of yellow stalks. And I said to myself - 'well this was another bad mistake I wont repeat again'.

In the spring the following year, as I was getting ready to toss the seemingly dead plant out, I saw small buds and green shoots appearing here and there, signifying new life. My heart skipped a beat as I became overcome with joy. Trimming away way the perished parts, I watched the plant grow and flourish, blooming with beautiful violet blue star-like flowers during the whole summer.
This continued year after year and I kept wondering how this incredibly resilient flower can come back after tough conditions, such as a few arctic winters with months of deep freeze, renewing itself annually with will and determination in the same pot, with no new soil added ever to nurture its growth...

I must admit that I do use a mild fertilizer during the summer watering, yet it is still astounding that this plant can keep growing stronger as time progresses. I never knew its name and finally now after endless and tedious research I realize it was called campanula (birch hybrid). I simply had to know, as this summer season the plant is the most stunning to date. I have never seen it flowering this magnificently - it truly thrives in our new home.

Covered fully and completely by amethyst coloured stars, it reinforces my belief in the miracle of nature and in the endless beauty of plant life.

My Campanula anno 2012

My Campanula, in July 2005, just planted with it's "yellow" friend

Half Way There...

Simple Pleasures...

Leaving the first week of July behind, I am exactly half way into my ordeal. Thinking back over the past two months, I have mixed opinions about the speed with which they have progressed - some days flew by, while some felt endless.

It has gotten easier though, to be alone, however unimaginable I though that would be. Or rather, to be without the man that I love, as I am perfectly capable to be on my own - lets face it,  I have had decades of practice.

In any case, I have settled into and accepted my new reality, developing new routines, trying to find positive aspects of my involuntary solitude. The fact that it takes very little effort on my part to find allure in the mundane helps a great deal and I do fill my life with a multitude of simple pleasures. After all, it is my experience that happiness is made out of short beautiful moments and we are the ones who create them.

I have made a new friend and meeting this delightful woman has made me realize how much I have missed a close girl friend. Due to my cosmopolitan lifestyle, I have not had one for over a decade - not counting some beautiful friendships I made online. Still, there is nothing like being able to physically spend time with someone who lives just a block away and who genuinely enjoys my company. It has been endlessly therapeutic to have another woman to talk to - preferably over a glass of good wine.

My New Friend...

She has made me laugh, cry and contemplate and amazingly 

I am finding novel avenues of thinking thanks to this encounter, learning so much about myself. 

This reinforces my perpetual belief in the importance of seemingly random encounters we make in life and the sensitivity with which we should always approach the people we meet. They all have a part to play in our life and if we give them a chance, vital lessons await to be learned.

I miss my white house much less currently, if at all. Suddenly the returning recollections of marvelous skies and sunsets do not occupy my thinking any longer. I have realized that I love the uncertainty of my future. There have been times in my past, when life seemed so predictable and indefinitely planned. Living in my white house, I knew there was not much new that awaited to be experienced, if I did not choose to make it happen - an idea which filled me on many occasions with a sense of panic.

Today this is no longer the case. I can still feel the rise of panic within me, but that has to do with fear for the safety of the man I love or the need for his presence. At times I curse the profession he holds and the fact that a separation like the current one will be a continuous occurrence in our life. Yet, simultaneously I realize that I love the very essence that his absence will provide. It gives rise to the unexpected, fueling my life with endless possibilities, preventing it from growing mundane and leaving the future open and free. Additionally, I feel endlessly proud to be loved by and to be in love with a courageous man, whose reality is defined by honor, duty, chivalry and competence.

The Celestine Prophecy

Most of my possessions are still in storage and in my solitude I find myself missing some of them, mostly old photo albums and my books. Luckily though, I did take some books with me and the other day I randomly picked up one. When I read The Celestine Prophecy for the first time those eighteen years ago, it was one of the most profound books I ever came across. Today I know it shifted something within my perception and when I return to my own writing, I realize how much it has inspired me in the way I live my life. It will be endlessly exhilarating to read it again - I wonder whether it will still move me in the same way as it did when I was a young, naive woman.

Yes, I am half way there - in my solitude, but also when it comes to the bigger picture - my life. I read recently on the news that I find myself in most depressive stage in it, with the respect to my age. Those younger or older are infinitely more happy.
We are all familiar with the curse of the midlife crises and of course, I too feel its effects occasionally. I do know that certain dreams I have had will never come true, yet I also hold the power to shift my dreams and make new ones.

Looking back I am content with my past and hold no regrets - thus I only dismiss these kind of surveys with a smile. After all, I have always lived my life as an exception to the rule and believe that happiness is a state of our mind, not the state of our age.

My New Stunning Evening Skies...

Summer Symphony.

My parents left Denmark today, heading back home to central Europe.
The house feels so very empty all of a sudden - as it always does, when my loved ones depart. I feel at times that my life is filled with endless hellos and good byes; moments of infinite joy and sadness, which alternate within my reality.

The week has flown by so very fast, yet it feels like ages ago I sat down to write a post or visited your lovely places, which I plan to do imminently. My intention was never to stay away completely, but I was so drawn into the allure of life, that no time nor energy was left to visit the virtual world.

I have experienced wonderful days filled with walks in stunning country side and the beach, scenic drives, lovely food, great conversation and tranquil evenings sitting at the outdoor fire place among those I love; this despite the fact that the weather was a mixed blessing of sun and rain.

The nature is currently in its final display of lushness and growth. The departing hot and unusually dry July is greeted by golden August, the month of plenty, which brought the needed rain - a vital fluid that the Scandinavian nature can not do without.
My parents - just like me - are avid nature lovers and it is at times such as these, in the company of my family, that I get to see the glory of the Danish nature in its full splendor. Seeing it through the eyes of those who do not reside here, I see it all over again as if for the first time, with new perception and sensitivity. The summer nature plays a symphony, not only in sound, but in colour and light. If we only pay attention, the orchestra of nature creates masterpieces rich in natural treasures and pristine beauty.

Trying to recollect the summer days through the lens of my camera, below is a story in pictures depicting that which I saw and the way I saw it. I hope you will enjoy this photographic symphony, even though the reality is always best when lived.

(Please click images below for a larger view.)

Bloom Of The Meadows.

My favourite summer flowers are the wild ones, which cover the wide meadows and plains, like precious gems adoring the fields of green. Those that grow unrestricted and free, in need of no care or attention, soaking up the sun, bursting with colours and gentle beauty.

Behind my house, within my views is a grassy, shared but secluded area that we consider our backyard. Park like and tranquil, it offers so much beauty in the different seasons. In autumn, it is painted with fiery shades of the turning foliage of birch trees and ripen berries. In winter, serene, sleeping quietly under the blanket of pristine snow, invoking the sense of rest. And in spring, sprinkled with dandelions and blooming shrubs and trees, it becomes an oases in colour and light.
Finally, during the time of the subtle summer months, it is lush and inviting. Full of wild flowers and sweet summer berries, buzzing with the sound of insects and the elegance of butterflies. Birch trees offer soothing shade away from the sun, while their full crowns sway in the breeze, creating that melodic sound that instigates the feel of content.

I took a short walk with my camera in our backyard yesterday in the late morning, documenting its July splendor, reflected in the bloom of wild flowers and the richness of insect life. The sun was already high in the sky, enveloping the trees in a gentle white light. The neighborhood was quiet and still and occasionally, the sweet singing of the lark, that very significant sound of the Scandinavian summer, played softly in the balmy air above me.

Closing my eyes, I laid down in the warm grass as I tried to capture this moment with all my senses, locking it firmly in my perception. It is mental snapshots such as these that I will revisit in my mind in a few months, when darkness and cold will rule my world.

(Please click image for larger view.)

Gentle Bloom.

Ever since the beginning of this beautiful month of July, we have experienced heatwave after heatwave, with warm, sunny skies. Plenty of sunshine, record breaking temperatures and very little rain.
Even though I rejoice in this kind of weather, the nature around seems to appear somewhat tired, in lack of a better word. It lacks that youthful freshness and bounce, that I am so accustomed to see.
This is reflected all around me, even in my own garden. I feel my plants are somewhat gentle this summer, in respect to bloom.

Thus may patio displays multitude of green this season, but the flowering is sparse. It is lush and inviting, but the bloom is absent. Even my Jasmine and Honeysuckle that were bursting with abundant flowers just a year ago display only a flower here and there.
While I wait for the indigo blue of my Jackmanii clematis, which is covered with imminent buds, I decided to share with you that subtle and gentle bloom that adores my garden right now. This includes, among others, the beauty of Lavender, Jasmine, Honeysuckle, Niobe clematis, Roses and Tomatoes.

I manged to capture one delightful image of a busy bumblebee, enjoying the nectar of my yellow tomato bloom. I have noticed - with great sadness - the incredible absence of both bumblebees and bees this year. I miss their melodic buzzing that at all times brings joy to my heart and soul. I am unaware of the reason to their small numbers, but I guess (and hope) this is due to the prolonged and strong winter that proceeded our summer season...

Despite the lack of insect life and bloom in my garden so far, I take consolation in the fact that the timid alpha cat of the neighbourhood, a.k.a Tiger, finds great solace on my patio. I have found him sound asleep underneath my spriraea bushes on many occasions. Taking naps in the afternoons, he seems to enjoy our hot summer just as much as I do.

Writing Interlude.

After almost three weeks of absence, I am returning with a short writing interlude. My intentions were to stay away completely until the end of this month and even perhaps longer, as I am about to do some traveling in August and I am still to welcome some more family visits in my white house on the hill. But I simply miss blogging.

Even though I relished in being blog free initially - forgetting about posting completely - this past weekend my longing to write has returned. Almost everywhere I go, I compose posts in my mind and I take mental photographs of everything I see and experience around me. I miss writing this online diary and therefore, even though for only a short while, I am back. Forgive me though if it will take me some time to catch up with all of you, however I intend to do my very best in that department.

I have had the privilege to spend some of these past three weeks in the company of a lovely visitor and my favorite gentleman; Mr. Summer, which has been bestowing upon us hot and sunny weather, a true recipe for happiness.

When I have visitors, I turn into a tourist myself, traveling around in my immediate vicinity, discovering hidden spots of beauty and history, not far away from my own doorstep. Combined with gorgeous weather and splendid company, time always seems to fly way too fast...

Tranquility By The Sea.

I was born under the Tatra Mountains in the heart of Europe. Therefore, during my childhood, the sight of a large body of water was an unusual one.

The word "sea" brought at all times exotic pictures of far away lands to my mind. We did travel to the Mediterranean when I was small, or rather to the Adriatic Sea. The most intense moment of all, on those trips, was when we drove around the final bend and could feast our eyes on the endless alloy of sapphire blue and emerald green waters of the warm, tropical sea, lined only by the misty horizon.

Upon our immigration to Sweden, the sight of the ocean became a common one. We lived in a port city on the west shores of the Baltic Sea. This ocean has very little resemblance with the calm waters of the Mediterranean; at times azure blue, it is pristine, but wild and free. Predominantly the colour of steel, it invokes respect and awe. We lived in close proximity of a strait and I could hear fog horns late in the night, when I sat hunched over school books, or early in the morning, when the whole city lay still.

When I lived inland in North Carolina, I missed the sea. After a decade of seeing it almost every day, I found the endless land oppressive and I longed for the carefree feeling, which gazing at the open waters will offer at all times.

I love everything about the ocean; I love the fact that it is different every single day. Its colours and moods change with the seasons and even with the weather. The clarity of the air above and around it varies as well, offering almost a mirage-like sight of rocky islands and freighter ships, which seem to be almost within a reach on a clear day, just to become invisible when enveloped by heavy mist or fog on the next.
Still, even now, I take the longer drive to work, only to be able to see the ocean every day.

This past Sunday, I took a walk on a nearby beach with my parents. I do visit this particular spot frequently, mostly during the summer months. However, I have rarely seen the ocean of the colour captured on the pictures and the movie clip below. The clouds in the sky gave the sea an almost tropical feel. The beach was deserted and tranquil, as if secluded in a lonely bay, on a forgotten island in the tropics. The lack of easterly winds made the waters lay still, with an occasional wave hitting the shore, creating a harmony in sound and sight.

It was one of these rare, memorable experiences - all I wanted was for that moment in time to last forever.

Magma Stone.

I am really having a difficult time accepting that we are loosing light. Every passing day gets shorter, loosing more minutes to the night. It is unbelievable that already now we get one hour less daylight than a month ago.

However, that is the yearly cycle up here in Scandinavia and a natural way of things. I guess I am feeling the loss a bit more intensely this year, due to the absolutely horrid weather we are having. July has been terrible weatherwise; a total disappointment. We have received a lot of rain lately. Too much at this point and my flowers are not happy anymore. They need water but they also need the vital sunlight; without it they look sad and lifeless. They loose colour and become soggy and slowly wither away. Or rot away would be a better description.

There is one positive factor though, which makes up for the dark and rain. The early evenings bring back the candle light.
Yes, I love candles and I burn through hundreds of them in the winter season. In the summer most of them are forgotten in drawers and cabinets, but slowly, the need for them starts to return.

Yesterday evening I lit for the first time in several months a few candles here and there around the house. Among others, my "Magma Stone". A very unusual and so very intriguing candleholder, which I received from the students in the lab, when I turned forty a few years ago. A lovely gift and frequently in use in my white house on the hill.
Strikingly Scandinavian, its design is rugged and pristine, carved in a form of hollow lava stone, made out of dark clay with coloured (orange or yellow) inside. When the candle is placed inside the stone and lit, the stone resembles magma.

I have placed it high up in my kitchen, which is open and connected to my living room. When it gets dark, the stone glows orange and spreads a warm, almost magical light.

Rhapsody In Rain.

My Day.

Today is a day that leaves me very happy, but also in some way brings on a sense of melancholy over the fact that time waits for no one. It is my birthday, as very obvious from the picture of a badge that I have received from the Irishman.

I am a summer child and as such I love summers endlessly. Already in my youth I enjoyed celebrating my day during this season, as almost at all times it was celebrated on our family vacation, in exotic and interesting places. I loved when I opened my eyes in the morning knowing that today everyone would be paying attention to just me and anything was possible. I looked forward to ice cream, sun and the sea and of course, many presents as well.

Today, this day passes in a much serene way and even though I do not like to think of how old I am anymore, I still enjoy the fact that I get the privilege to be here. To be in good health and to still have so much to look forward to.

Below is a picture taken by my grandfather, my fathers father, on my third birthday in 1970. Although I do not remember this day, I recall very much the spot where it was taken. I am sitting in our summer cottage with my father, looking out through the windows. I love old photographs like these as they remind me of the fact, that no matter how fast I think the years have gone by, when I gaze at that little girl in the picture, I know a lot of time has indeed passed and a lot of adventures have indeed been experienced by me since.

Despite the wrinkles and despite the limitation age brings, I still like to believe that the best is yet to come.

Hot, Hot, Hot!

It is hot. And I mean REALLY hot. This kind of hot I can not really recall from the decade that I have been living in Denmark.
It is impossible to be indoors, as my house is a furnace and outside the only relief can be found in the shade, where it is 32C (90F). And with 44C (111F) in the sun, it is a scorcher.

But I LOVE it. I love it completely and I wish for it to last. It brings back the memories of hot, humid air that I remember with joy from my years spend in North Carolina. And I miss that kind of weather on regular bases. However, everything good up here in the North last only a split second and already tomorrow, the weather will be turning for the worse.

This post is therefore short, as I have no energy to move, not even to write. Additionally I want to spend all the time I possibly can to soak up the sun and the beneficial heat. Instead I let the pictures below describe my Saturday, which is a one that I will recall very fondly in a few months.

But before I go, I would like to wish all of you, my American friends, a wonderful 4th of July!