Frost Adorned.

November comes across as a very nostalgic month.
In my native language it carries a poetic name, loosely translated as leaf-fall. Indeed, during the next few weeks, our trees will be robbed of their ornate attire, until they stand bare, instigating a sense of sadness, almost melancholy.

This penultimate month of the year makes me feel as if we are standing between seasons.
Autumn is slowly concluding and the fiery colours are vanishing, being replaced by grey scale and monochrome. The daylight turns into twilight and the dry air becomes cold, damp and misty.

However, as winter closes in, once in a while we wake up to a subtle platinum dawn, revealing frozen landscape - that first preview of what is to come a few weeks down the road.

Continuing my fascination with macro-photography, I tried to immortalize the first frost on our lawn this past week, as it adorned the remains of summer bloom and intensified the contour of fallen foliage.
The views came across as a time-warp, bridging three seasons into a moment of delicate natural beauty, only visible to an early riser, vanishing upon the gentle touch of the fragile morning sun.

Fallen Angels.

Sitting in our kitchen, I watch the birth of a new day, knowing that the pink horizon will very soon burst into a glow of light.

We are way past mid-fall and nature is at its flamboyant best, the turning foliage shinning bright in the light of the first sun rays.
The ultimate showdown in colours is in my part of the world intense and fleeting. Yet every few years the display is simply more vibrant. This autumn thus falls into that category and currently my commute to work is undertaken through painted landscape. The views passing my windows outdo each other in brilliance and parade by in nuances of fire, copper and gold.

I am alone again, facing two weeks of solitude. My husband is in sunny California, refurbishing his skydiving skills as a part of his occupation.
His absence comes across as a doubled-edged sword.

On one hand it is a welcomed intermission from my novel life. That busy, messy, hectic, disorganized and unplanned yet so life-affirming and joyful existence that I have grown to love. Knowing this seclusion is only temporary, I find my alone time highly revitalizing.

With this said though, I dislike to be separated from my husband. I absolutely love to be in his presence and when he is not by my side, my world crumbles. Additionally, as much as his skills and his profession fascinate me and carry a great deal of appeal, attraction and pride in my eyes, they also give rise to a constant concern and worries, causing me to succumb to moments of distress and even occasional panic.
This is an area of my reality I still need to work plenty on, trying to learn to accept that which I can not change, facing the unknown with courage and being the strong woman my man deserves by his side.

Thus trying to pass the time - and actually enjoying to be having enough of it for once - I do what what makes me happy. I again find my solace in nature, photographing the flamboyant fall beauty that surrounds me, while I write down my thoughts and impressions fueled by my solitude. I finally also have the opportunity to compile the multitude of images that I have accumulated over the past months, spending hours cataloging these, creating photo books and calendars, the Christmas gifts that my family - near and extended - love to receive.

Among my many photographs are hundreds of macro images of fuchsias, captured recently in the garden of my father in law. These enchanting plants are his passion and pride, adoring his property in hanging baskets or in pots, creating oases of stunning beauty.

At extreme close up, the dazzling flowers of the plant resemble small, fragile dancing ballerinas, swaying in the air, flaunting their multicoloured, ravishing dresses. The texture of the blossom comes across as almost textile - soft velvet and silk.

While immortalizing these delicate creations of nature, I noticed that some of the blossom has fallen to the ground. Upon closer look, mesmerizing artwork unfolded in my view and my camera lens. The flowers fell randomly, yet their positions felt prearranged, as if an unseen artist walked there before me. Resembling fallen angels, sleeping among autumn leaves and moss, their colours only intensified against the earthy canvas, creating masterpieces of epic proportions.

Just like in life, the most enchanting beauty is hidden from view, only to be discovered if we look deeper, look closer, look from a different angle and look differently.

Beads On Silk.

With only a few warm weeks here and there, this summer has been one of the coldest ones on record. The sun holds enough heat to warm up the ground during the day, yet the cold arctic air streaming until very recently straight from the North Pole has kept our nights unseasonably cool and our mornings defined by dew, the droplets of which hold a hidden beauty to be found by an early riser.

Our lawn is full of miniature spiders which spin their invisible, tiny webs in the twilight of the white nights. Their masterpieces are usually unseen to the human eye. Yet, morning dew and even soft rain visualize these silky, fragile architectures for a few hours upon dawn. Resembling glass beads threaded on silk, one can marvel over this natural wonder of nature, before the sun burns the water droplets away, hiding these treasures from our view, as if they never even existed at all ...

(Please click images for a better view)

Frozen Dew.

We have now passed mid fall, thus the first frost covers the ground, clearly visible upon daybreak.
This past week, getting ready to hang up new washed laundry in the morning sun, I had to walk onto our lawn, which is now mid calf length - not that we care too much.

The air was still and cool and there was a promise of a beautiful sunny autumn day in store. Areas of grass not heated yet by the sun were covered by multitude of water crystals and beads of frozen dew - a stunning, nevertheless fleeting architecture in ice.

Nature is an endless source of magic. Just a couple of weeks ago, the sense of summer hang in the air, as spiders spun their webs among the slender green straws, covered with brilliant dew. Yet now they are long gone, and the ice in the grass announces in no uncertain terms that the countdown to winter has truly begun.

(Please click on images for a larger view)

Splendor In The Grass.

We are in the midst of an uncanny Indian Summer. Yesterday was the warmest day in October ever measured and indeed our second month of the fall began warmer than our July.

As the sun heats up the air to record breaking temperatures, the nights are nevertheless still cool, giving rise to misty mornings and dew covered ground. Being up early, I literally waded through our overgrown lawn - having not been mowed for over two months, it belongs more appropriately in a jungle than in a garden.

Yet the long grass offered an unexpected surprise. Among the vibrant and juicy green slender leafs, tiny droplets of water shone as if thousands of diamonds were thrown onto the ground. Spread all across the grassy carpet, these reflected the low lying autumn sun like miniature mirrors. It was as if an enchanted being crossed here in a hurry upon day break, leaving behind beads of a broken necklace. Accidentally strewn onto the leafage, some drops got caught up in the silky threads of spider webs - a treasure to find for those who look.

And indeed, what beauty lies hidden between the green straws if we only take the time to notice. Brilliant splendor in the grass, a reward for an early riser and a delightful last kiss of summer as it waves good bye.

(Please click images for a better view.)

Solitude At Daybreak.

For years, my exercise consisted of a daily morning run on a treadmill located in the basement of my old house. It was easy and it was practical, having my own gym within reach. It also made it harder to have any excuses not to run.

Upon my recent relocation, my old treadmill has been left behind and thus I have adapted a different exercise routine, the one practiced by my new family. A novel concept to me; running outside. Stepping onto a natural ground, finding a rhythm in following the versatile terrain and enjoying (or fighting) the elements.

Thus three times a week, I get up at daybreak and set out on a run through the sleeping neighbourhood, by now on a fairly familiar route, which eventually takes me onto a path around a nearby lake.

I have come to cherish this tranquil time in complete solitude. As I jog along the solitary path, I very rarely meet anyone but the occasional dog walker or elderly couples on their first stroll of the day. As a naturally early riser, I enjoy the stillness of a newborn day, heading outside, inhaling the morning scents and stepping on the dew covered ground. Most of all I love to visit the lake at this hour, when mist still lingers upon its surface and the first sun rays burst from behind the trees.
My morning run has certainly become one of my new found simple pleasures.

(All image in this post are taken with my iPone on a recent run, during a beautiful late August morning.)

Fiery February Dawn.

As the sun slowly moves ever so higher up in the sky, it yet again creates not just stunning sunsets, but equally breath-taking sunrises.

Dawn is by far my favorite part of the day. It holds a certain appeal of the gentle beauty in a newborn morning. A clean slate, fueling the idea that anything magical has the potential to yet happen.

February dawns are the most beautiful ones to be witnessed from my windows - they are not just stunning, but they are also rare. The sun is now rising in close proximity to the cardinal east and an early riser is rewarded by views that have no equal. The young sun sets the velvet violet-blue heavens on fire and creates a few minutes of absolute enchantment, as the stillness of a late night becomes a fiery winter dawn...

(Below a few images taken of a magnificent sunrise as it unraveled in my views one morning this past week.)

The Smiling Moon.

Yes, yet another post about the moon - but how can I resist?
On the evening of the full moon I was privileged to watch it rise above the ocean, in the company of someone special, as its reflection spilled like liquid silver over the ebony surf, creating a magical moment, locked in space and time - and furthermost in my perception.

This morning though I had to marvel watching the moon set during a magnificent violet dawn. Still almost full, I finally managed to preserve its enchantment through a semi-decent image - compliments of my brand new camera, that deserves a post of its own.

On one of the pictures a bird passed my view, creating a smiling face in the morning sky. And that put a smile on my face as well - hope it will on yours too.

Winter Lights.

As we step into the final week of Christmas anticipation, my surroundings grow darker by each day.
These days,  I find myself suffering from a mild case of insomnia - of the good kind. Thus being wide awake in the early hours of the morning, I love to watch the world, as it is still submerged in darkness and stillness.

I do not mind this current state of my mind, as pleasant thoughts fill my entire being and I find incredible comfort in the ebony of the winter dawn. The only illumination - in my home and outside my windows - comes from candles and the beautiful Christmas Lights. Their delicate shine creates a feeling of enchantment and tranquility, spreading a soothing and comforting atmosphere.

Each morning, I enjoy watching the sky turn milky grey, as the illumination slowly looses in intensity, until it at one point vanishes all together, signaling a birth of yet another winter day.

Morning Glory.

Due to the company I used to keep, in the past I found myself being a creature of the night, often involuntarily. It did not bother me though and I enjoyed late morning sleep ins; however on regular bases they failed to make me feel refreshed and invigorated.

As much as the stillness of the night can be soothing and tranquil, it seems also to carry a certain feel of distress with it. A sensation of being late, or being behind. As if one is trying to catch up with the world that seems to move a few hours ahead of oneself. Besides, it has been suggested that sleep initiated on the other side of midnight never fully restores the body and mind.

Early morning however carries a different kind of tranquility. The one that instigates a feel of being ahead, being the first one to experience an enchanting moment, way before anyone even knows it is there. The privilege of facing a new day, with all its pristine glory and unblemished beauty, while the rest of the population is still sound asleep, unaware of the natural wonder that is taking place just outside their windows.

As of lately, my body naturally prefers rising early and I have never felt more energetic. This past weekend, as I was up just after the day break, watching a late autumn sunrise, offered views filled with colours and nuances that contrast the ones surrounding our sunsets. Gone is the saturated golden, red and orange. Instead, the air is light and misty, defined by transparent colours; pale yellow, turquoise and baby blue, with a touch of pink, which can turn violet as the winter nears ever so close.

There is a certain magic hidden within the morning glory, which carries with it hope and sense of renewal, as well as promises of fresh beginnings. Anything has the potential to yet occur. It is infused with a sensation of momentarily stillness, almost an anticipation of something grand - it is as if time lingers for an instant, belonging to no one else but me...

Watching the sun rise slowly, as its subtle rays embrace the landscape, melting gently away the frosty blanket while the golden disc barely leaves the horizon, is a source of endless enchantment. To relish in the gentle tranquility of a newborn day, as my house becomes saturated with the scent of fresh coffee and baked bread has become one of my new found simple pleasures.


(Below a selection of recent images, depicting late autumn - early mornings, as viewed from my grand windows; please click the images for a better view)