Four Seasons Of A Tree.

Perhaps some of you recall my fascination with a beautiful silver birch, which I could watch outside the windows of my old house.
I documented its changes over the course of a year in pictures and found the reward for watching a tree during the various seasons to be priceless.

Little did I know then that the tree would be cut down by my neighbours a few years later, to my shock and disbelief. Thus my photography is all that remains as a testimony to its existence...

Therefore I was thrilled to find a birch in the front garden of my new home and have likewise captured its changes throughout the past summer and autumn, from green to bare.
This spring I returned with camera in hand to document its awakening and the results can be seen in the pictures below, including a shot I took in winter as well, concluding its yearly cycle.

I love to watch the swaying of its branches outside our kitchen window. This birch can not match the beauty of the one I used to feast my eyes on in my former home. Yet it is ours and as long as we live here, it is safe. Its presence grants me the privilege to follow the natural transformations throughout the seasons, as they pass my views with uncanny precision and reassurance.

(Please click images for a larger view) 

In Monochrome.

There is something very melancholic about the end of November. The second half of this penultimate month in a year carries a certain nostalgic feel to it. Particularly here in the cold North, where it is defined by cloudy skies, damp, misty air and a barren landscape.

By now, all the foliage is gone. The golden, copper and fiery red colours are replaced by a multitude shades of grey. As we stand between seasons, our world grows monochrome. It resembles a foggy canvas upon which bare tree branches are painted like dark brush strokes against the twilight sky.

Thus it is time for me to conclude the progressive photography of our lovely birch tree, at least for this season.
It stands now all dormant in our front yard, appearing lifeless, entering its winter sleep. What a difference a span of three months can make - one can not believe that the first and last picture below is indeed taken in the same spot. Gone is the juice green and even the copper hue. The beautiful azure heavens and platinum sunshine. All that remains is a charcoal tree drawn against a transparent anthracite background.

Unless snow will cover its branches a few weeks down the road, I will return with a new update first next year, to take you on the opposite journey through the spring and into early summer, recording the return of the beautiful leaves of our silver birch.

Turning Foliage.

Our Indian Summer, which dominated the onset of this month, feels today only as a distant memory. Yet, it has contributed to a truly delayed colour showdown.

We are thus in the midst of a very short and a very intense turn, which I believe will last only a week at the best. It has been only days since the foliage began showing in all the earthy colours of red, copper and golden.
Below are some long overdue updates on our lovely birch. It has lost almost half of its lovely coat and whatever still adores the branches is golden. By each day, the strong westerly winds, with a force so very palpable in these parts, rob the tree of more of its leaves.

When I stand looking out of our kitchen window these days, I always have to pause, looking at the long branches as they sway in my view, like the mane on a palomino, while the air gets saturated by falling leaves, gathering on the ground in heaps, like golden coins. At all times these natural changes instigate in me a sense of security, as yet again the third season moves forward, as does the yearly circle of the birch.

(Please click images for a larger view)

The Treshold Of Light...

... or "My Ode To June Sunsets".

Today's summer solstice marks the culmination of our Scandinavian white nights. It feels like it was just yesterday the longest night was upon us, which meant the onset of the best part of the year; alas now we are heading in the opposite direction. Even though light evenings will be granting us their stunning presence until the beginning of August, the end of June marks the end of a certain magical period that always seems to be gone before it even begun.

White nights fill me with an endless feeling of awe and astonishment. They bring so much enchantment to my surroundings, lifting my spirits and reinforcing my belief in the mysterious. No wonder that already the ancient man built neolithic monuments to celebrate the event of the solstices.

Each evening, the June sun bestows upon us sunset shows that take my breath away.
As the golden disk moves slowly towards the skyline almost twenty hours after it has risen, it turns into a large, fiery globe, instigating moments of great anticipation. Its shape seems to float above the Earth, as if guided by an unseen hand until it meets the horizon in a covert kiss, upon which it spills across the sky like molten steel. Moving slowly out of sight, while colouring our northwestern skies blood red at midnight, the sun only disappears out of view for a short while, never really vanishing, leaving behind strokes of rainbow shades. Simultaneously, the northeast is already the colour of silver. As we move into the small hours of the morning, the imminent sunrise alters the silver sky first into platinum and then the colour of rose gold. In the stillness of the night, day breaks with all its splendor. The golden disk reappears from its short slumber, casting a violet glow across a dewy landscape. And the bird song begins.

Rising almost five hours earlier then in winter, the midnight sun adds about eleven hours more light to our summer days. As we cross the threshold of light, I will try to savour every moment of the longest day and disregard the sharp sting of melancholy, that its departure always instigates in the very core of my being...

The below is a series of photographs taken from my windows during a dramatic sunset two days prior to the summer solstice. As the night progressed, the skies became clear and the splendor of a stunning white night a reality.
Please click the images for a larger view.

Colourful Midnight.

I have learned a new word recently: skiving. Or to be a skiver (aka slacker). And that is exactly what I have been this weekend. A blog skiver. I simply could not get myself to do any writing (or visiting for that matter) at all. I had no ideas nor any profound thoughts were filling my mind and I spend my Sunday sorting out clothes and watching old movies.
Thus today my post is short and unsubstantial. And so boring, as I am again posting pictures of night sky that most of you are certainly fed up with by now.

But I simply can not help myself.
June is the time of our white nights and as we approach the summer solstice in about ten days, their culmination is imminent. I simply have to pause every single night, as I gaze towards the north west skies, that shimmer full of light above the city below. The midnight sun has arrived and will stay around for a couple more weeks.

While the white nights were somewhat absent last week, due to heavy clouds and fog, yesterday, as the cloud cover finally lifted, the sky revealed the night sky in all the magnificent colours of a fiery midnight sunset. And as you can see below, what a difference ten days can make.

From Bare To Green...

Considering we have reached June and the onset of the summer season, this signals the finale of my Monday Birch Tree Updates. This installation of my progressive photography (as once termed by Hilary, my good friend) also completes another series of my autumn Sunday updates From Green To Bare, which took place last year.

Never before have I payed such a close attention to this magnificent tree in our front yard, as during these past ten months. Not just to the tree itself, but also the changes that the adjacent trees and plants undergo between seasons. I have closely studied the yearly circle of the Birch and became familiar with the progress instigated by nature and ultimately by the ecliptic journey, which our Earth travels around the sun. The tree has almost become my friend, that silent sentinel, which I can gaze at every morning from my kitchen window, as the world greets me with yet another day. In twilight and bright sunshine, in still summer air and in windy autumn, green in foliage and bare in snow, it has been there to add ambiance to my views. Always the same, yet always different.

Nature is magical at the very best. If we only pay the slightest attention, miracles await to be discovered on daily bases. No need travel far and away, the best usually lies just a few steps from where we live.

Thus without further ado, here is a compilation of the four seasons of my majestic friend; The Birch Tree.

(Please click images to enlarge)

Science Before Prose Writing.

Or work before pleasure.
Yesterday was such a grey, rainy, dark and cold Sunday. Indeed, it instigated a feel of December rather than May. In some way I did not mind as I was preoccupied with work. Instead of my usual blog writing and doing research for upcoming posts, I spend it on putting final touches to a scientific paper.

I enjoy writing research papers and particularly this one, as we are presenting something novel and intriguing to the world. Results like these are what makes science so very exciting and rewarding.
Therefore I have been a slacker when it comes to blogging and have been absent from your lovely places; thus forgive me if this week my visits as well as my writing here will be sporadic at the best. I simply have a deadline to meet.

I decided though to post my traditional Birch Tree update. As a very cold May ends, the tree and its surroundings are growing greener and summery. Even though as we stand on the threshold of another seasonal change, parting with spring is easy. It somehow feels as if it never really arrived this year at all...

May Nights Revisited.

The long winter and extensively delayed spring has so far caused a lack of joy, which I usually feel during this time of the year. I am trying very hard to reinstall it in my consciousness by reminding myself, that although it feels far from it, the best part of the year is indeed here.

The cold temperatures in May and April, with very few heat waves instigate a sensation of literally no spring. I fail to feel its presence, despite the bloom and the green growth. It is similar to ones dreams and desires - when fought for and awaited for too long, once they come true, they do not bring the satisfaction one has hoped for.

The only time I feel that indeed this is the season of magic is when I look at our night sky. The nights are white and almost absent. Before bedtime, when most of the world is already fast asleep and I open my windows to let in fresh breeze from the west, I can see traces of sunset finales, which colour the heavens in yellow, red and purples. Even at midnight, as the city below comes alight, the sky is not dark and the onset of darkness becomes exponentially delayed by each day. We have now gained ten hours of light since winter solstice in December and are one hour short of the longest day which will occur in about a month.

As seem on the two images below, taken at approximately the same time point, about a week apart, the increase in light is close to impossible to comprehend.


Northwest, 11th of May, 11:00PM


Northwest, 18th of May, 10:55PM

Veils Of White.

As gentleman Summer ends his lovely visit, it is time to enjoy all the gifts he has left behind. Aside for giving us a sneak preview of what is perhaps to come in a month or two, it also left our nature in bloom.

I have two bushes that bloom in May. One of them is my pride and joy, my precious Cherry Laurel that lines my front terrace. Damaged severely by winters frost, this spring it is struggling to renew itself and thus has so far produced no flowers.
The other shrub that gives rise to absolutely stunning white veil of flowers are my two kinds of Spiraea. I love these sturdy bushes, with their dark red branches, giving winter a hint of colour and beautiful autumn foliage, with bursts of yellow and red, a stunning addition to the landscape in late fall.
The first Spiraea blooms in May, the second one in June. I always await these flowers with great anticipation, as they signify the imminence of summer days.

As seen on the traditional update of my Birch Tree below, the first Spiraea bloom has began. Likewise, the Birch is now full of fresh new foliage. It has lost all its catkins and is thus ready for the summer season.
Even though these updates could now conclude, I hope you might still enjoy them for a few more Mondays. I'd like to follow the progress in the nature surrounding this magnificent tree a while longer, while we reach the culmination of the green growth in a a couple of weeks, at the onset of the summer season.

(Please click the image to enlarge.)

Changes Around And Within.

The sun is shinning again after a very rainy and cold weekend. Although it is back to work for me, as I feel the warmth of its rays on my face, I sense my spirits lifting ever so slightly.

I find myself these days in times of contemplation. Perhaps as the seasons change and everything around me seems to grow and flourish, I too long for a certain renewal. But we all know that changes are difficult to make and they only get more difficult with age. Therefore until I find the courage to change that which I can and accept that which I can not, as once stated by Saint Francis of Assisi, I will have to relish in the changes that the nature undergoes instead.

Such as the ever changing, majestic Birch Tree in our front yard. It is now full of those first, soft light green leaves, slowly loosing its flowers. The Cherry Tree is in its most splendid bloom and gazing at that pink beauty makes me smile. Some of our trees though are still bare - this due to our very cold May, which on some days was colder then some of our Decembers have been in the past.

Hopefully, as we enter late spring, a warmer air and increased light will bring on a needed change and the imminence of summer - around and within - will finally become palpable.

The Danish Trees.

Slowly, the plants around are turning green. Despite the fact that last week was the coldest May week in the last 13 years, nature nevertheless still moves forward.
This progress is always mostly visible on our trees. It is interesting to note their state right now; some are already green, some are barely displaying leaves, some are in bloom but leave-less and some are still bare.

Our Birch tree is now in full bloom and its foliage is getting more lush by every day. The update below is not as significant as last week, except for the Cherry tree to the left that is now displaying pink flowers. However, the trees around, which I assume to be Ash and Oak continue to be unchanged.

Except for these three (Birch, Oak and Ash), my immediate surroundings contain a selection of various fruit trees (including Cherry trees), some Fir trees and Spruces. Additionally, if I take a short walk, I can spot Elm, Hazel, Willow, Maple, Chestnut, Beech and a few Linden trees, which bear heavenly scented flowers in late summer.
Still these account only for a selection of almost forty different species of trees that grow in Denmark. About 12% of the country surface is covered by woods an this number is luckily on the rise, expected to be 25% in 100 years. The Danes are very attentive when it comes to their nature and recognized early on the potential of large wooded areas.

In my city, there are numerous natural forests that follow the coastline and are a home to versatile plant and animal life. A stone throw away from almost any location one can find solace and tranquility in the shade of the crowns of many magnificent, at time ancient trees.

(Please click to enlarge)

Quantum Leap Of Nature.

Quantum Leap is actually a physical phenomenon, but somehow it feels as a very adequate term to use in order to describe the progress our nature has made within this past week. And if you take a look at the images below, I am sure you will agree.

The change is enticing at the very least. As I write this, I recall some of your comforting words in your comments a few weeks ago, telling me that you see the changes happening over night and that I will too soon. Well, you were correct.

The progress is leaping forward with an astounding speed, almost each hour offers a new change. My hedge lining the back terrace has turned green within a matter of days. Once again, the patio becomes a secluded spot, hidden from view by the ever growing foliage. Our cherry trees are now in the beginning of their bloom and of course, the birch trees has changed beyond recognition.

The perfect combination of rain and sun that we received last week produced visible results. Our birch tree is not only in full bloom, but the very first leaves are now obvious. The recent three weeks delay has been shortened to only ten days.

As we make the transition from April to May, this signals the beginning of the absolutely best time of the year in Scandinavia. It brings not just the culmination of the spring season, but also the imminence of the magical white nights.

(Please click to enlarge.)

The Silver Tree.

Our birch tree is finally almost in full "yellow" bloom. Not even the snow and hail last week could slow down its progress. In fact, the buds at the base of the catkins, which will give rise to new leaves very soon, are now obvious.

I can sense that the sun is very important when it comes to the birch. Some of our trees are ahead of others; this seems to be all depending on their position and exposure to the vital rays. I have just recently realized, that there are many different kinds of birch trees. In fact, some do not display that characteristic white bark, that makes our Scandinavian birch stand out among other trees found in the North. It can therefore be easily distinguished from other kinds and is named the Silver Birch.

As this past weekend was sunny and warm, the change in the images below is more obvious (please click to enlarge). There has been some rearrangement of our garden furniture, but besides that, the birch appears more yellow than brown and a green hue is now visible almost on all the bushes. Cherry tree bloom is imminent and even though not obvious from the pictures below, the first birch tree pollen fills the air.

Slightly Postponed.

The picture here to the left is taken on the 22th of April last year, that is almost exactly a year ago. It depicts the early flower of my birch tree, so called catkin.

If you look closely at the image, you might even notice some fresh new leaves present in the background. The fun fact about this photograph is the incredible difference, if one would capture the same image today. This year the birch trees barely have any flowers in bloom yet. Not to mention any leaves.

The nature is about three weeks behind its normal progress. Considering that last year our winter was very mild, our spring was ahead of itself. At this time in 2009, my surroundings had a significant green hue and many trees were in bloom, including the cherry trees.

Thus it will take a while before trees and plants catch up and in fact, I also start to feel the impact of this delay. I long to finally see some green leaves, like never before. Every day as soon as I wake up, I look out of my large windows across my garden, trying to see if any progress has taken place since the day before. And I guess even though this progress is very slow, it is there, in the very minute details.

Even the birch tree update below (one day delayed, sorry about that) will show it, if one looks more carefully. A week later, the new view looks almost identical to last week. Still, after closer examination, the bushes to the right on the new picture display the first, albeit tiny green leaves (please click the below to enlarge). Likewise, the buds of our lovely cherry tree (to the lower left) have significantly grown.

Arming myself with patience, I am hoping that as the sun grows stronger and shines longer by each day, this progress will become more obvious.
After all, good things come to those who wait.

Return To The Birch Tree.

Slowly, the nature is waking up after its winter sleep. The yearly cycle of our trees is just about to begin yet again.
Some of you might remember the small series of photographs I posted over the course of last autumn, depicting - or following - the loss of the foliage of a majestic birch tree in my front yard.

This progressive photography is I guess not completed yet, as the season of spring is missing. I am very intrigued by the idea of progress, whether this progress is man made or natural. I love to watch the seasons change, the transition of buds to leaves or flowers, the growth of plants and trees. To document the alterations in foliage of a tree is absolutely rewarding, as the changes are almost always visible within a few weeks.

Thus every Monday I will post a picture of my beautiful birch tree, depicting the changes in images, taking you back from "bare to green". Already now, the tree has visible buds of it's imminent flowers, that will be in bloom very shortly, bringing us the first pollen of the season.