Spring Snow.

Crossing the vernal equinox this week, we have officially entered the second season. Winter however seems to think otherwise. The Ice Lady never leaves voluntary and fights to the bitter end to remain in reign in my part of the world.
Her wrath is endless and currently absolutely fierce, making this March one for the record books as the coldest ever meassured.

Nature and animals yearn for spring and so do we. Everywhere I look, there is a pristine blanket of spring snow and the easterly winds blow arctic air over us, keeping the temperatures below freezing.

The only vernal sign is the light. The sun is raising earlier and setting later by each passing day. There is something altered about the daylight as well, as it slowly turns platinum instead of golden.

Despite the final fury of the winter, a point of no return has been reached and that universal feeling of an approaching seasonal shift can clearly be perceived - the best time of the year has already begun.

Mountain Splendor.

The past two weeks, even though they have flown by, come across in time span rather like two months.
We have been packing, we have been moving, we have been unpacking for days on ends, discarding and purchasing, putting things in place and decorating - until we were simply too exhausted to even breathe.
Then, just when we thought we were done, another kind of packing was set in place.

Before we even got the chance to enjoy our new home, we set out on a sixteen hour drive south, in order to savor the beauty of the majestic mountain range of central Europe, frolicking in sunshine and snow. Our skiing vacation, planned last summer, did not coincide very well with out move - but I guess the best in life is unplanned.

The beauty of the European Alps is breathless and the time we get to spend gazing at the snow covered mountain peaks, priceless.
And yet, once it is time to say our good byes, we will not feel sadness leaving all this splendor behind. Rather we will with joy look forward to return to our brand new home.

All images taken in the Italian Alps, February 2013.

Sugar Coated Trees.

Stepping into the second month of the year, our winter weather is once again cooling down. So far it has been alternating between raising and plummeting temperatures.

It started off very mild, the white precipitation of December melting away, as we greeted the New Year with grey skies. Then the wind shifted and Siberian cold dominated our weather patters, bringing with it snowfall, abundant sunshine and bitterly cold arctic air - my preferred conditions by far.

A few days back, the weather changed again, the westerly winds drawing warmer air from the Atlantic, making the skies grow monochrome, the water surf wild and the weather stormy.

However, just a week ago, nature bore an ivory attire, as winter showed off her covert beauty, creating art of snow and ice against an azure blue canvas. These are fairytale views of the last season, when it is at its best - an alabaster landscape full of sugar coated trees.

Our birch stood frost adorned in all its wintery beauty, as if to say farewell in style, knowing that very soon we will forever part our ways...

Three Elements.

As Lady Winter steps into mid reign, she tightens her icy grip and throws us into deep freeze.
Yet this fourth season is simply enchanting in its raw beauty - the sights appear so fragile yet the conditions are so unyielding.

Setting out on a short walk along the pristine shores of the North Sea, we were greeted by snow-covered alabaster beach, clear baby-blue skies, frozen ochre colored surf and lazy indigo waters. The waves were hitting the coastline so very softly - a rather unusual sight in these parts.
The arctic air streams to us from Siberia in the far northeast, leaving the usually raging westerly beaches atypically docile, sheltered by the sandy dunes.

We savored the assembly of three elements - frigid air, icy cold waters and frozen earth - while the brave seagulls took to flight, completing an unforgettable, natural sight that left us almost breathless...

Reflections In Snow.

View From Our Kitchen

I sit once again in my favorite spot, in our kitchen, looking out onto the bare birch tree, as it stands so very still in the snow. I try to savour the stunning wintry images as much as I can. Despite the fact that the alabaster blanket is several feet deep, a major thaw is on its way, robbing us most likely of all hope for a white Christmas.

I have mixed feelings about snow - driving in it is a true nightmare and the adrenaline rush cutting through my body as the car wheels start sliding uncontrollably is the most terrifying feeling imaginable. Add some evening fog to the mix and I become paralyzed with fear. Night fog is in my opinion the most horrid condition to drive in. Especially thick fog banks that come out of nowhere and force me to slam on the brakes as I suddenly hit a wall of total nothing and visibility of zero.

Views During My Daily Drive

Thus in the past two weeks, following snow storms that made it impossible for me to set out onto my long daily commute, I have been confided to the house for some days here and there. Yet, as the roads cleared and the sun came out, the drive to work turned into an enchanting and visually stunning experience and the views of the snowy landscape touched me almost to tears...
Therefore I will truly miss the snow, as it illuminates the darkest months of the year, creating so much beauty. Almost every morning this past week as I sat behind the wheel, the only though occupying my mind was "I wish I had my camera with me and I wish I could stop and capture all this endless brilliance of nature and winter at its very best..."

With barely a week left to Christmas I wonder where the time is going.
I find myself so out of it and am becoming increasingly disorganized.
I, who used to live by routines and had every week meticulously planned in advance am now living from day to day, where my reality is improvised and spontaneous. My life is a wonderful mess and there is an intensity in it that makes me feel alive.
Carrying boxes with our Christmas ornaments out of our garage the other day, falling knee deep into the pristine snow in the process, the sight of the garage interior made me gasp. So much stuff! And it all has to be sorted out, packed into boxes or disposed off within the next month. It will be a difficult task to do in the midst of a cold winter.
Perhaps the thaw that is coming is after all heaven send.

Our Decorations Detail

Later, when I decorated the house, it struck me that this was the last time I did so here. Next December, I will be decking the halls in our new home. As always, I felt nostalgia grasping my heart - every ending is sentimental and everything that concludes usually comes across as bittersweet, no matter how much we look forward to what is to come.

Sometimes I lie awake late at night, when everything is so very still. My mind starts racing, my thoughts run like wild horses. Facing two mortgages in the future, how will that go?
Being a landlord, I am still connected to my past through the white house on the hill. It is an odd feeling, knowing there is a property out there that belongs to me on paper, yet which I never see, only maintain. Here and there something breaks and I am asked to repair it, which means I make a call and a craftsmen is send to the house. It has been months since I last visited the property that I own. The other day, sending a Christmas card to my tenant, writing my old address yet another name on the envelope, I experienced a truly surreal moment...

Our Entrance

For most of my adult life, I have been alone.
Every problem, every decision, every hurdle - I had to overcome them and solve them on my own. That notion still envelops my being and I still become anxious and apprehensive about the difficulties that the future holds.
Yet as time moves on, I am slowly learning to live in the present, something my husband is greatly proficient at. His smiling face and loving arms reassure me at all times that I am no longer alone.

Taking risks and taking action -  these are what brings us forward, enriching our experiences and our perception. However hard it is for me to accept that the uncertainty of the future is the only certainty there truly is, simultaneously I am realizing that this very fact is the essence of a rich, full life in progress.

View Of Our Backyard

 

In Ivory.

There is nothing more enchanting than the first snow.
December snow is the most alluring precipitation, creating christmas card like atmosphere, adding to the the spirit of the Holidays.

We have been under a heavy snow blanket for over a week, as the first few snowstorms of the year swept over the country - the latest one last night - leaving us with stunning views of a winter wonderland. Yesterday the weather gods granted us a short break, with clear skies and a fragile sunshine, beckoning us to set out on a short drive through the white landscape.
The soft winter sun momentarily drenched nature in a platinum light, making the snow sparkle and the contrast between the alabaster white fields and the azure blue December sky so very obvious.

The ivory views passing the cars window clearly reinforced the fact that we have stepped into the third season and the reign of Lady Winter has truly commenced.

(All images in this post are taken with my iPhone through the windows of our car.)

Everything Is Illuminated.

As we step into December, the weather has turned bitterly cold and the first snow of the season has fallen - as if on cue - with the onset of the first winter month.
Embarking on my long commute after work the other day, three hours into a dark winter evening, I left the traffic of a busy metropolis behind and set out onto the deserted freeway. Driving along, I experienced a sudden sense of enchantment.
The darkness subsided and the full moon peaking occasionally through the clouds cast an alluring silver light onto the road ahead, while my favorite musical piece kept playing in the background.

I felt as if suddenly everything was illuminated.

Thus yet another unforgettable moment formed in my perception - an occurrence that is fairly common these days.

My dreams and hopes are all slowly become reality and the future indeed seems bright.
In a couple of months we will begin the process of moving into a new house - a place that will become our home.

Sitting in our lawyers office this past week, getting through the last administrative paperwork before signing the dead, my mind went through a short flashback to almost exactly a decade ago.
Seated in a similar office, in a another part of the country, I was signing a deed to my very first house, the white house on the hill, having an entirely different future planned ahead off me. I never thought then that ten years down the road I would be embarking on a novel journey once again. I find this to be the most alluring aspect of life - not knowing what the future holds.
One thing remains the same though - I feel equally excited about the prospect of the purchase as I did then. When we walked into our house for the first time, both me and my husband, without any communication between us, knew in our hearts we have found our home.

Giving in to the wave of changes, I have taken the decision to change my citizenship.
It is an important step, one that I take gladly, but one that is leaving me full of nostalgia.
I am giving up a country where I was not born and where I have not lived for over two decades, yet where I spend twelve very important and formative years. It is a country that took my family in and gave us shelter and a promise of a better future. It was where I spend a blissful childhood, where I went to school, where I had my first home and my first employment. It is where I made the friends I still have in my life and where the foundation was laid to who I am today.
Thus I take this step with a sense of apprehension, even though there is no doubt in my mind that my decision is the right one. After "belonging" to one country almost all my adult life, despite my many moves and relocation - I guess I have finally found a reason to belong elsewhere. I have found a reason to lay down my hat right here.
I have finally found my home.

Indeed, everything is illuminated, even though we are amidst the darkest time of the year. November noir has ended, becoming replaced by December brightness - not just defined by the shine of the full moon, but by all the twinkling, ornate lights adoring houses and lining the roads and the multitude of candles burned throughout the Scandinavian homes.
I have always loved this time of the year, when this undefined yet so tangible and unified joy settles all across my world.
Still, never before have I enjoyed the onset of the Holidays more than I do today.

Love, family and home - these are the blessings that define Christmas and currently these make up the very core of my life and are the shinning beacons that illuminated my heart. 
Each and every day is precious and even the darkest winter night is suddenly full of light.

Azure And Alabaster.

This is where I am right now, surrounded by the deep colours of azure and alabaster. This thus explains the lack of my posts and visits, for which I apologize.
I am simply just savoring the pristine and snowy slopes, fairytale surroundings and everything else that is part of a great skiing vacation, all in a perfect company.
Will be back soon.:)

Shores In Snow.

I love the sea.
I love so many things about this wide body of blue, but I guess most of all I relish in that endless variation that a view of the ocean offers at all times. The sea is never the same and those who live at its shores will confirm this fact with certainty.

The beaches of the North Sea must be the most pristine ones I have ever laid my eyes upon. There is so much raw beauty in the powerful surf, as the rollers of icy cold water sweep over the sandy shoreline, spraying salty aerosol high into the air.

I have now had the privilege to witness the manifestation of this rough sea in three seasons and each seems to try to outdo the previous one when it comes to power and beauty. On our recent visit, once again stunning natural opulence greeted me.

It was a sunny day and the almost two-hundred minutes increase in our daylight produced a hue of platinum and no longer gold. The snow covered sand resembled a dried up salt lake bed, reflecting the abundant sunshine. The mist was rising at the horizon, erasing the border between earth and sky, instigating a sense of continuity. The sea itself moved forcefully, yet it swept over the shores in slow motion, as the deep freeze kept its consistency so close to land on the borderline between liquid and ice, creating slushy pools.

Okra, platinum, steel, sea foam and indigo - those were the words resonating within as I gazed at the colours surrounding us. The vital sun warmed our faces, the salty air purified our souls and the distant roar of the winter ocean cleared our perception and I once again found novel reasons for why I love the sea.

Stillness In Snow.

Crossing into February, the mild winter is history and more seasonal weather has gained hold over Scandinavia. Subzero temperatures, wind and snow.

Luckily, only a light blanket is covering my surroundings. A dry powder of white precipitation that swirls around when picked up by the arctic wind. It makes the snow dance in circles resembling wintery dust devils, driving it into small banks here and there.

Yet, despite the wind gusts, there is a certain stillness while it snows. It is as if everything stops and slows down, conserving energy and bracing itself for the final fury of the Ice Lady.

Note: I apologize for my lack of posts and visits - life has simply been keeping me occupied elsewhere (in a good way). I should however be back to more regular blogging soon.:)

Slush Ice.

The first snow is enchanting and alluring.
When the initial snowflakes appear, I watch them with such delightful intensity, as if I have never seen snowfall before. Indeed, how differently I perceive this wintry precipitation late in the season, when it comes across as impeding and distressing.

We got our first and very brief taste of winter this week, when sleet swept over the country, leaving behind slippery roads, snow dusted fields and wet snow in our streets - for a few hours only, melting away quickly in the fragile rays of the early winter sun.

Of course, I simply had to capture the first snow with my camera and thus I hope you will indulge me one more time, as I share with you the images of our overgrown lawn. I have shown it previously covered with droplets of dew in early autumn and the first frost in late October.
Here it is hence once again covered in slush ice.

(Please click images for a larger view)