Vernal Evening Sky.

As the month of March moves into April, the evening sky outside my windows offers a gallery of natural works of art, unlike any other made by man. While the sun ever so slowly sets over the western horizon, I have the privilege to see it vanish in the most glorious way ever imaginable.

Spring and autumn sunsets are my favourite by far. Even though there is nothing like the fiery midnight skies during Midsummer, when the white nights rule the North, the vernal sunsets are enchanting in vision and light. Whether the sky is dramatic, covered by dark clouds, or artistic, painted by strokes of colourful water vapor, or whether it is pristine and clear - the shows taking place outside my windows are spectacular every time.

Below a selection of the sunsets I have been lucky enough to witness over the course of the past few weeks.

Violet Dawn.

Finding myself - yet again- widely awake yesterday at the crack of dawn, as the birds welcomed the daylight, I decided not to go back to sleep. Instead I left the comforts of my warm bed in order to enjoy an extended, laid back morning, turning my dismay into a lovely, simple pleasure.
As I opened my bedroom window, these images of an extraordinary reward met my gaze.

The sky was painted in every shade of violet and purple, fading into cranberry red just above the horizon, where a round, fiery sun was rising. A rare sight indeed.

Sunset views are common at this time of the year, even though they never seize to amaze me. Every time I see one, I stand in awe. Getting a glimpse of a sunrise is though extraordinary.
Why? In winter and late autumn sun lies ever so low over the horizon, barely visible. In spring and summer, it rises early in the morning, while I am sound asleep.

Thus my recent insomnia was a blessing in disguise. I was gifted with a view of a violet dawn.

Brazil - A Photo Tag.

A while ago I was tagged in a Photo Meme by the very lovely sprinkles. I am suppose to find my first picture folder and list the tenth picture and the story behind it.
Anyone who feels like doing this meme, please be my guests.

I looked up the first picture folder on my stationary computer in my study. That folder, titled Brazil 2004 contained pictures from my trip to Brazil in 2004.

In November 2004 I took part in a scientific meeting held in Angra dos Reis in southeast Brazil.
The meeting was taking place on a secluded resort in the middle of a rain forest, on a coast surrounded by small island. Beside scientific work, there was truly enough time for leisure as well. The door of my room opened directly onto a sandy beach and those 3 days that the weather was actually sunny, offered some incredibly beautiful and relaxing moments on a tranquil and serene sandy shore. The picture below - which was the tenth picture in that folder - was taken on a day like that, a few steps outside my room.

It was an absolute paradise for any biologist, as the rain forest nearby was filled with exotic plants and animals that I have never seen before, nor will I ever see again. However, rain forest means rain. Therefore those almost two weeks at the resort after the meeting concluded, were spend mostly sitting under an umbrella.

All this aside, this tripe made for memories to last a life time. And for many exotic images to help recalling those moments.

The Rising Moon.

Driving home from work on Monday evening this week, as I was passing the coast, a magnificent moon was seen rising just above the bay. It was almost full. The evening sky was jet black and absolutely pristine and the image I saw was mesmerizing.

The disc was large and very bright, reflecting in the surf of the "arctic beach", which is still snow covered, but yet once again ice free. Almost as if suspended in the horizon, the nearby lighthouse could be seen underneath the moon as a small light dot, turning on and off with regular intervals. All this created an almost enchanted landscape. I simply had to stop to take a picture.

With my camera at home, all I had in my bag was my iPhone and the pictures I took became unclear, resembling a rather diffused aquarelle, doing no justice to the reality as I recall it on that magical Monday evening.

Determined to capture a better picture on my way back from work at the same time a day later (yesterday), I was equipped and ready with my camera, battery fully loaded. The evening was yet again clear, but to my surprise, no moon was in sight. Bummer! Compared to the sun, which rises and sets with minimal difference from one day to another, the moonrise can differ as much as one and a half hour within a span of 24 hours.

Not that the pictures would have been much different. Not being able to capture adequately the image of the moon has caused my irritation level to rise on many occasions. I love my small "point and shoot" camera, but it has no zoom to speak off and thus my moon pictures continue to look bad.

Just before bedtime yesterday, as I was extinguishing the lantern outside my front door, the white disc was once again visible in the night sky. Smaller then the day before and partly obstructed by clouds. I could not resist taking one more fuzzy shot, this time with my camera.

This natural satellite of Earth holds my everlasting fascination and thus I can not help continuously trying to capture the beauty of this celestial object, no mater the quality of my pictures.

My Favourite Summer Picture(s).

The lovely Kat at Kat's Corner recently invited us to a very simple challenge; to post our favourite summer picture.

I love this challenge.
It makes for a nice break between all the winter pictures that I keep sharing (and will be sharing for a few weeks more). In fact I loved it so much, I went further than that. I found two summer pictures. All right, to be honest, I simply could not decide which one I loved best, so I am posting both.
And to complicate matters even further (as I am not very good with simple), I posted recent winter pictures as well. Not my favourite, but pictures of the same spot, some eight months later, for comparison.

Why are these two my absolute favorite? Because they show my favourite spot in my summer garden. Or terrace. Both taken last June, a few days apart, they depict that same spot at two different times of the day.
They were taken during the beautiful early summer, when my caprifolium (honeysuckle) and jasmine were both in full bloom, making that part of my terrace a heavenly place. A tranquil, scented hideaway, that offers moments of serenity and contemplation during the day. And comes evening, my outdoor fireplace (chiminea) spreads a beautiful wooden aroma in the air, making the same spot cosy and relaxing.

This is the enchanted time of the year, the season of the Scandinavian white nights that keep the evenings light, with sunsets occurring on the other side of midnight.

These June pictures symbolize my favorite part of the year - I simply can not wait for its return.

(Please click the image to enlarge)

A Collage.

I am a great fan of collages. Since I was a child, I loved to draw and paint, but I also enjoyed cutting out bits and pieces of paper, fabrics and most of all, photographs, creating my own art. Some of these are still on display in my home today, like this one on the left, summarizing a period of twenty years in my life, depicting family and friends and the best moments in my past.

The words collage originates from the French coller, meaning to glue. As quoted by the wikipedia:
"A collage may include newspaper clippings, ribbons, bits of colored or hand-made papers, portions of other artwork, photographs... glued to a piece of paper or canvas. The origins of collage can be traced back hundreds of years, but this technique made a dramatic reappearance in the early 20th century as an art form of novelty."

Today of course I enjoy creating a digital collage, in fact I find it is becoming a great hobby of mine. Many of you have expressed an interest in my collages or mosaics - which I often share here with you - and have asked me how I make these. Well, I love to sit down with my laptop on the weekends. It is a MacBook and my faithful companion. I have no idea what I would do without that great piece of technology - I rely on it every day. In any case, now during the winter, I prefer a spot by the fire and as my favorite compilations are played in the background, I plug the memory card from my camera into my computer, releasing all the images from the week onto the hard disk. Then I slip into another world for hours, as I create and compile my digital photographs using my favorite software, Adobe Photoshop. I forget time and place while I categorize all the snapshots into new images, that will become sentimental memories. I guess making these is the best part of every post, I have to admit. The collages I create do help me to convey my thoughts to all of you, while supporting my writing. Often the best ones are eventually made into prints and end up as postcards, christmas cards, calendars and eventually some as lovely additions in my photo albums.

Below a collage of collages, just a fraction of those I have shared with you here over the course of last year.
(As always, please click to enlarge.)

Snapshots In Print.

I still think that the best way to view a photograph is on paper. However magnificent, sharp, defined and clear a picture can appear on a digital screen, there is still something infinitely soothing in holding it in your hand, printed on paper.

I have been taking photographs since I was a teenager and have always enjoyed it. Not just the actual photography itself, but particularly the excitement during the wait, as the film was developed. Once the printed photographs arrived, it was wonderful to re-live the moments captured within the images, all over again.

Still today, in the age of digital photography, I long for the same sentiments. Even though the modern cameras, combined with computer technology, make it easier to take multitude of shots of the same subject, enabling us to choose the best one, the notion of looking at the final print is still a very original one.

Today I sorted out my newest photographs into photo albums. Amazingly, the albums are becoming more difficult to find commercially. At least to a reasonable price. Nevertheless, Sundays are perfect days for quiet afternoons spent reflecting and recollecting precious moments time, while looking at their snapshots in print.

Calendar Photographs.

Today I removed my coffee table set that I keep on my front terrace and placed it in our shed for the winter, where it will stay until spring. This signifies that the season of warm days has ended and that very soon, we will receive the first frost.

I will also sort all my photographs which I have taken over the course of this year and decide which ones to to use for the creation of my calendars. In mid October, I create 3 small table calenders; one for my parents, one for my aunt and for myself. I have done this for the past 3 years and it seems to be a hit among my relatives.
Interestingly, the word calendar is derived from the Latin word kalendae, which is the Latin name of the first day of every month. I had no idea that the first day in each month was significant enough to have term of its own.

As I type this, it slowly getting dark outside. Not only do days loose the heat, they are also loosing light by each passing week. Once we reach the end of this month, the onset of the dark period will envelop Scandinavia once again.

The Silver Disc.

This past weekend the moon was full again. This becomes very obvious to me, when the night skies are clear around the time of the full moon. I live on the outskirts of the city and even though there are street lights nearby, I always have a clear view of the stars and the moon, if the clouds are absent.

I sleep underneath a rooftop window as well, therefore during clear nights, the starry skies and the moon is the last thing I see before closing my eyes. It always surprises me how much light the moon provides. Its illumination is so strong, it at times feels like a lamp has been left on in some of my rooms.

I have always found this cool silver disc very intriguing. Its glow is so enigmatic, it surface so near, yet so distant. Born in the sign of cancer, I am suppose to be effected by the moon, exhibiting moody behavior and transform according to it's different phases. I am not sure how true that is. All I know is that every time the moon is full, I can't help standing still for a while, gazing at it...
Now I only wish I could be able to capture the beauty of this natural satellite of the Earth on pictures as well. I can look at its relief surface and see it so clearly and vividly, yet all my camera sees is a white blob. I guess there still is no measure to the quality of images our own eyes can capture.

Family Art.

Many members of my family are creative. My mother used to love to write when she was younger. She loves poetry and used to compete in local recital competitions as a child. Her sister, my aunt, always loved to draw and even though she initially worked as an architect, today she owns her own art design company, illustrating books and creating commercials.

My father, just like me, loves to paint. He has created numerous art pieces that used to hang on display in his practice, before he retired. I think many of his patients admired his painting and urged him to have an exhibition. My father though regards oil painting as his hobby and over the years has given most of his art away.

I have been the lucky receiver of three of his paintings, all stunning in my eyes. I enjoy his meticulous, detailed style. All three oil works have been inspired by the Swedish nature. Anything from country roads in early spring to the pristine beaches in the summer. The vivid colours and the choice of the scenery shows that he is a nature lover and a dreamer at heart.

I'd like to think that I inherited these traits from him.

Solar Eclipse.

There was a total solar eclipse last Wednesday almost all over the Asian continent. I am trying to picture what experiencing such an event must feel like.
I often wonder, whether it really becomes dark. And what kind of dark it is. Is it twilight, dusk or complete darkness. From some of the photographs that were published by the online news media, it seems that in some places, the city lights were turned on and to me it appeared like night and not mid morning.

I too often envision what it must have felt like in ancient times, when mankind was not aware of this natural phenomenon. This celestial show must have been considered to be a divine sign, foretelling the future or being an omen of some sorts, not always a good one. Linked to the mystical and heavily surrounded by superstition, the eclipse for the primitive man must have been a sight that supported a belief in the magical and unknown.

I have never been lucky enough to witness a total solar eclipse. There have been a few partial ones over Denmark over the years. Even though not as spectacular, as the ones leaving an imprint of a diamond ring on a film, they were still a sight out of this world. I did managed to capture a few good images during a partial eclipse which could be observed in Scandinavia in August last year.

Unfortunately, I live in the part of the world that very rarely sees a full solar eclipse. Next time one will occur here here will be on the 25th of May in 2142.
Somehow I seriously doubt that I will be around to experience it.

Stars In Motion.

I do not know if anyone recalls, that one of the lovely Christmas gifts I received this past year from the Irishman was a book filled with stunning pictures of the stars and other celestial objects. Entitled "Astronomy, 365 Days", it depicts a year with images from the endless universe.
I like to look through it once in a while and often get intrigued by the photographs of our earth and the skies above. Considering that this year is the "International Year Of Astronomy", I like to continue to share with you some of the images that move me.

For the 8th of July, the image in my book depicts the most famous constellation in night sky; Crux, the Southern Cross. Taken with a tripod positioned camera where the shutter is left open, the image created is a stunning one, depicting stars in motion. A true cosmic art, painted with natural colours on a canvas of black velvet, the night sky.

Season Of The Rainbows.

We are all familiar with that wonderful magical phenomenon that occurs during a summer rain. I love rainbows. Already as a child I found the colourful arch incredibly enchanted. I used to watch it emerge behind the sun drenched drops of rain, while it intensified on the canvas of the dark sky, only to slowly disappear into the air, as if it never existed at all.

Nowhere are there more rainbows than here in Denmark. I see them all the time in spring and summer, in the early mornings or late in the afternoons, almost always complete, like divine bows, so proximate, yet so beyond reach.

I am not surprised that these vibrant creations of nature have mesmerized mankind, giving rise to tales and stories of mystery and magic in fables and mythology.
However, the magic of the arch is nothing more than a refraction of light when it passes through a drop of water, causing the white light to separate into seven distinct colours; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.

Science aside, I still like to believe that some conjuring is indeed taking place - how could it not in creating such a magnificent piece of art.
My favorite still has to be the notion of the leprechaun and the secret hiding place for his pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, as so well depicted in the movie musical, "Finian's Rainbow", which I recall fondly from my childhood.

Today, I still love to watch (and listen to) the so very romantic duet between Don Franck and Petula Clark; "Old Devil Moon".
They don't make music like this anymore.

The Crescent Moon.

Today is a holiday here in Denmark. The Danes are celebrating a religious observance, that is, as far as I understand, unique to this country. It is "Den Store Bededag" and it translates something like "Great Prayer Day".
Therefore my morning is very quiet, as most of the population is sleeping in, today not being a working day. I am however heading to the lab to enjoy a short, hopefully quiet and laid back Friday. And that is exactly how I like those days to be.

Considering that I have talked about the sun this Monday, I decided to dedicate a post this week to the moon as well, which has fascinated me since childhood. There is something charismatic about its cool glow. If the sky is clear, I can almost at all times watch the lunar phases out of my windows. If the conditions are right, I can see the moon out of the window in the roof when falling asleep at night.

However, I am not very good at capturing the moon with my camera. I have tried many times, but I am not happy with the results at all. It looks so amazing in reality, but the pictures never do it any justice.

This below is the crescent moon as it was seen last week, on a clear warm evening, out of my living room window. I wish I could do better than this.

"Light Nights".

Today is the official beginning of the white nights that are in Danish (and most likely in the whole of Scandinavia) called "Light Nights".
This to me is the beginning of the absolutely best time of the year, which will last until August the 8th, when the white nights end. Although the duration is only a few months, these are the wonderful summer months of the North.

Denmark, with its position in southern most Scandinavia doesn't get the full benefits of the white nights; although to be honest, the intensity in which they manifest themselves here is more than sufficient to me. Starting today, by which time we have gained about eight hours and thirty minutes since the winter solstice, we are approaching the summer solstice in June, with a difference of a total of almost eleven hours of sun. This means pretty much another day full of light. When the weather is clear, sunsets can be watched late and night. Once the sun has set, leaving the sky blood red for hours (as seen on the pictures here, taken in June 2005, around 11pm), if one looks to the east, the sky is already turning rosy red at an imminent sun rise. I am thoroughly fascinated by this northern phenomenon, when the nights are truly "light". All we get is a dark twilight at the best, lasting in the hours close after midnight to about 3am, when the sun rises again. The birds start singing about half an hour before and therefore my biggest problem in the summers is to make sure I fall asleep before 2am, or I am doomed not to sleep at all.

I have once spent some time in Finland in the middle of June, with some good friends of my parents when I was in my early twenties. We were at their summerhouse on an island outside Helsinki. I will never forget how significant the white nights were there. Or rather, the nights did not exist. At about 1am it became dusk, but instead of turning into night, it turned into sunrise. I did not sleep at all for 10 days and suffered from terrible insomnia.

Nevertheless, I love the immense difference the North offers between the winter and summer - the “light nights" to me are a blessing, not curse. They are a fantastic and unique reward for enduring the never-ending, dark Scandinavian winter.

Evening Horizon.

Spring brings back the view of the setting sun. Although I prefer the dramatic sunsets, when the sky is cloudy and bursting with colours of contrast, the sunsets on clear evenings have another kind of magic.
I love to watch the sun move, as it sets over the horizon slowly, but visibly. The orange globe of light turns slowly into a red disc, which disappears bit by bit until it is gone, leaving the world submerged in twilight.
Below is such sunset captured a few days ago, for the first time since autumn.

My Garden In Early Spring.

Spring has arrived and my garden is slowly waking up. The bushes have visible buds and all the spring bulbs are flowering, with exception of daffodils, which will bloom most likely in a couple of weeks, just in time for Easter. In fact, the Danish name for daffodil in translation is "Easter Lily".

The crocuses are now reaching their peak, in a week they might all be gone. They love the sun and on a clear day their crowns will open, bursting into brilliant yellow and purple. In fact, crocuses here are lining the roads and make up for a carpet of colours to be enjoyed on my drive to work.

The herb garden is still very barren, but I can see green sprouting here and there. The clematis that I cut down in February has buds. So does the rose, which displays small pink leaves.
Insect are slowly waking up too, such as the lady bug in the picture above, soaking up the sun while resting among the spring flowers.

Unfortunately, weather this far up north is still very unpredictable in March. Even though days full of warmth and sun have arrived, the possibility of a late winter storm is still lurking. Unbelievable, but true. It can snow as late as April and therefore, spring is at this very early stage highly unstable.

Today was a wonderful sunny day, but it was very windy. The wind was howling through my windows and even though the sky was blue, the air was still very cold.
A wonderful day to stay in, looking out. Amazingly, I woke up early , almost with the raising sun. This was one of those quiet mornings that I thoroughly enjoy. The rare mornings, when the rest of the world is still fast asleep. I enjoyed it while baking rye rolls and watching the world come alive with hot cup of steamy coffee.
I love these lazy Sundays.

Sky On Fire.

I am completely and utterly mesmerized by nature. It never ceases to amaze me; with its wondrous and breathtaking visions and the way it masterminds itself. At times I feel oppressed by the city life with all its problems, stressful days, time restriction and lack of space and freedom. One of my daydreams is to leave it behind and live out in the country, tending to a piece of land, far away from the busy crowds of the metropolis.

Of course this will remain a daydream and I am fully aware of it.

Still, at least I have my own private escape, which the evening sky offers me, almost every day in the spring all across the summer and long into the autumn.

The magnificent sunsets.

The clear, sunny days end with evenings full of spectacular celestial shows, taking place just outside my windows. Every time I watch these, my sentiments about nature being the greatest artist and the most talented painter are reinforced.


Sunset on 20th of March, 2009

Cloud Front.

I waited for that sun, that was promised to us, the whole weekend.
But - it never came.
It was foggy and rainy the whole Saturday and Sunday. Until Sunday evening that is. Just when the weekend was ending, the clouds were retreating, creating a clearly visible front. Typical.
Today is sunshine and warm, but that doesn't help much as I am heading back to work.
But at least my Monday is sunny.

A March Sunday In Pictures.