Baby Birch.

Those of you who have been reading my writing for a while know that I am a nature lover. Most of all, I love trees - birch trees in particularly. There is something almost elf like in their shape and the texture of their alabaster bark.

I have had a special relationship with birch trees in Denmark, it seems.
The westerly panoramas of my white house on the hill were lined by a row of them. Additionally, there was a stunning tree that adorned my easterly view. I was so fascinated by it, that I documented its changes over a course of four seasons. Those images are all that remains as a testimony to its existence, as it was cut down by my neighbors shortly before I moved, much to my great shock and disbelief.
When I moved up north, there was an old birch growing in the front yard of our old, rental home. I loved to watch it shift throughout the year from my favorite spot in the kitchen.

Walking around our new property the other day, I was overjoyed when I found a very young, baby birch next to the greenhouse. It has the most beautiful, paper thin, ivory bark I have ever seen and in the shine of the late winter sun it stood out almost illuminated against the azure blue sky. The slim branches carry already buds, which will turn into catkins in about a month, announcing the arrival of spring.

This time around this birch belongs to us. Its fate is in our hands and it is safe. I find it very exhilarating to know that once again I can watch - and document - the seasonal changes of a stunning tree, completely undisturbed, hopefully for years to come.

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...

Ornate October.

As we exit the month of October, the stunning showdown in colours all around us is now so very apparent. This is fall flamboyance in all its glory, when trees, shrubs and bushes grow that beautiful attire of copper, gold and fiery red.

It often comes across as a certain theatrical finale - it is as if nature wants to leave us with the best it has got, enabling us to enjoy and savor its final glow, before it becomes infinitely barren, cold, dark and still.

This autumn beauty is very short and intense in my part of the world. At all times it sneaks upon us suddenly and the changes are powerful and fast. Every day more colours are added to our views and it is an endless joy to watch these grow in tint and intensity.

Indeed October is that ornate month, when nature wears its very best, as was truly obvious on our recent walk. It felt as if we were granted one last performance, before the foliage vanishes from the trees, compliments of the late autumn storms, making leaves gather on the ground like discarded party confetti.
When that time comes, then we will truly know that winter is about to begin.

(Please click images for a larger view)

Silver Birch, Encore.

Many of you might recall my infatuation with a beautiful birch tree, the one that used to adorn my easterly views in my old house.

One year I decided to follow the changes of its foliage and document them here in a series of photographs, showing the yearly cycle of that stunning silver tree.

Never before have I paid such a close attention to that lovely birch as I did that year and in the process I realized how much beauty and life goes unnoticed every day in our own views.

It was with a deep sadness in my heart and tears in my eyes that I watched my neighbours cut down my beautiful friend this past spring... I do not think I can ever accept or understand this atrocity.

Thus I was overwhelmed with joy when I realized that a beautiful silver tree adorns the easterly views in my new home. Once again, I can watch a magnificent birch and its transition through the year, as it plays out just outside our kitchen windows.

Therefore with renewed enthusiasm have I decided to document its yearly cycle, starting from green to bare.
I hope you will join me on this trip through the next few months, as I once in a while share with you the beauty of this natural change, as it gradually commences in my views.

Gypsy Mirabelle.

What a truly striking, exotic name.
Those two words bring to mind images of a sultry, dark haired beauty dancing around a campfire in flowing colorful skirts with flowers in her hair.

However, this is the name of a lovely plum tree that grows at the outskirts of our garden and right now produces fruits in the hundreds. For weeks now the bright red plums have been dropping down, covering our lawn, spilling onto a nearby road, while my new family seems quiet oblivious to this fact. I however, who has never "owned" a fruit tree in my life find this as endless source of excitement, even though I am sorry to say most of the fruit will never be used. Except for those few eaten by me.
I guess it is time to learn how how to make jam.

I truly enjoy going through this time of discovery, slowly getting to know not just my new house and home, but also the beautiful and untamed garden that surrounds it. It seems that each new season offers novel surprises and I relish in making acquaintance with the natural wonders just outside my windows.

Vernal Trees.

I love trees.
In any season, in any weather, any kind.
There is something majestic, impressive and almost comforting about this living architecture. Trees are never the same as they change through the seasons, yet they are always constant and always just simply there.

On numerous occasions I have found solace just by gazing at their luscious crowns, as they sway in the summer breeze. Often when everything around me crumbles, resolves or goes trough an unsettling transition, the presence of Birches just outside my windows or Chestnuts and Oaks lining my favorite trails seems to at all times put my mind at ease.

Last weekend, as the first glorious spring weather settled over southern Scandinavia I took a walk near my home, along my favorite natural path, where I often go to seek solitude and tranquility.
I was greeted by spring trees, in all their pristine austerity. Their bare branches, twisting and turning, like natural artwork rising above my head, the colour of earthy dark tones, appeared in such a strong contrast against the azure blue vernal sky, holding so much promise.

Seemingly dead and lifeless, I know that appearance can be so deceiving at times. So much life is preparing to push through, hidden and protected deep within the twigs, beneath the bark, away from the chill of the early spring air.

Glancing at the last traces of snow and feeling the warmth of the sun on my face, as I stood in between the seasons, I suddenly knew in no uncertain terms that a change is on the way.

Sorrow And Joy In Wood.

As many of you already know, I live in a white house on a hill, overlooking the city below. I love my house and I love my surroundings.
It is a chain house, connected to four other houses, each with one or two small terraces or patios. Additionally, we all share a large front yard and an extensive, secluded, tranquil, almost park-like backyard, covered by multitude of shrubs and beautiful birch or pine trees.

Living in a chain house, very close to other families, has its pros and its cons.
Looking at the bright side, among other things; I do not need to mow the lawn. I do not need to shovel the snow (or very rarely). I do not ever feel lonely or anxious. Houses get painted and things get fixed without me troubling my mind about it. Furthermore, when I travel, Batcat is in good hands, well looked after - and so is my house.

But with this said, living in such close proximity to at least eight other individuals creates situations that can make my irritation level rise. Not always will decisions be made that are to my liking. Still, democracy rules even our little neighborhood and thus at times I have to accept and surrender to the will of the majority.
Therefore, with sad and heavy heart I watched my neighbour trimming down the lush growth in our backyard last weekend, cutting down three magnificent birch trees further down the hill and two beautiful spruce trees right in front of my windows - those that used to adorn my westbound vistas.

It was painful and it was tragic.
It made my heart ache, as the beautiful pines gave my view a certain perspective, which is lacking visibly now.
The beautiful birches that I loved to watch throughout the seasons are now lying in a neat pile on my terrace - cut up in pieces, drying out for next winters fire wood. Mixed with the pine, they look so beautiful, yet gazing at them brings a certain sadness to my perception.

However, this prompted me to contemplate the fact that every winter, my fireplace burns away logs that were once lovely trees somewhere beautiful, growing in beautiful woods, overlooking lakes or meadows. Enjoying the crackling fire for months each year, I should at least consider this fact.
Thus being ever the optimist that I am - trying to find something good in everything bad - I do take solace in the the few positive consequences which arose from this drastic action.

Such as the renewed unrestricted view of the west cardinal direction, where very soon magnificent sunsets will take place, leaving me to enjoy the evening sky. Likewise, my terrace will receive more sun in the summer, no longer hiding in the shade of the spruced branches. Furthermore, to be fair to my otherwise very kind and very good neighbour, he spend a lot of time trimming the trees and shrubs that obstruct our northwesterly view and thus once again, I can see the city lights unfold every evening below. Comes June, this is where the midnight sun will move across the sky, setting the heavens on fire.
Last but not least - I have some firewood for the next winter season.

As I will rejoice in the commencing summer sunsets and in the cosy fires of the new winter, I will remember with great joy and a sting of melancholy those magnificent beauties, which once stood as silent sentinels outside my windows and I will take consolation in the very personal desire that arose from this event - and that is to one day plant a tree.

One day in a far (or near) future, perhaps in a house on another hill.
In any case, a tree that will never be cut down - not in my life time at least.

Fallen Foliage.

Translated from the Czech language, the name November means Leaf-fall. How true this description rings indeed, as it is in the eleventh month that our trees loose their precious leafy possessions.

Thus everywhere I look, beautifully dyed leaves lie in heaps, in a stunning contrast to the evergreen of the grass or the black of the asphalt, garnishing the ground. While I walk or take a drive, I love to watch the wind play with these copper and golden remains of foliage. Almost as unseen sweepers, the wind gusts pick the leafy leftovers off the ground in colourful whirlpools, like discarded remains of party confetti, long after the celebration has ended. Moving them across the sidewalks and roads, creating a feeling of enchantment, but simultaneously - a certain sense of sorrow. One that can be perceived upon a conclusion of something brilliant...

To me fallen leaves are stunningly beautiful. They continue to create abstract masterpieces of art, while - and long after - the painted landscape slowly turns foggy and grey.
Momentarily, there is nothing more alluring then the rustling of the foliage beneath my feet, as I take late autumn walks on misty days, while the air grows saturated with dampness and the scent of wood burning fires.

Fall Flamboyance.

Looking out of my grand windows, I can see that my surroundings display the last of fall flamboyance. The landscape is painted in golden, red and copper hues, which shine in strong contrast to the alternate grey or deep blue skies.

This stunning display always occurs suddenly and is very short lived. Autumn has passed its mid reign, thus it's passion appears confined into only a few days of splendor, almost a showdown in colours of brilliance and beauty.
I relish in these last days of October, when I feel as if I have stepped into masterpieces of art, created by unseen artists, in lustrous nuances of earthy tones.

Before long, strong storms will rip through this dazzling, painted landscape, stripping trees and bushes of their ornate attire, leaving them standing bare, instigating a sense of late fall nostalgia...

The transition into the penultimate month of the year signifies a certain awareness of seasonal change ahead. Before we however move into the final part of the third season, October finale leaves us with a glorious, but soft daylight saturated by colours of mature autumn foliage and nights with lights of jack-o-lanterns, conveying the sensation of the mysterious and the esoteric.

(Please click the images to enlarge)

Autumn Trees.

Gazing at photographs I took a year ago I can not help but to be endlessly taken back by the beautiful colour display. Unfortunately, this year our Autumn is nowhere as flamboyant. I am not sure why. As far as I am aware, the weather pattern has been very much the same as last fall; sunny days and cold nights. And this is apparently the recipe needed to produce all the bright reds, copper and golden tones that so many of you out there are experiencing right now.

Nevertheless, if one really looks, a few lonely trees indeed stand proud in all their autumn splendor. On my recent walks I tried to capture the infinite beauty that their foliage displays. To me those fiery shades are at all times a source of joy and marvel over the talented artist, which we call nature.

Colours Of October.

As we approach mid autumn, the foliage is now visibly changing, progressively by each day. The colour display will intensify over the next couple of weeks and the approaching culmination will be short lived. The weather pattern has so far produced rainy days with gorgeous sunny days in between, but the lack of frost will most likely not result in a colour display that will match the one of last year.

I went to my local garden center yesterday in search of new autumn flowers for my terrace. I love to stroll slowly along isles and paths, full of green and at this time, colorful plant life. It was an early afternoon and the center was still quiet, devoid of customers. There is a certain tranquility that envelops my senses in places like that.

I enjoyed particularly to walk among the young trees and shrubs, so many different kinds all gathered in one spot. Their leaves flaunted fall beauty in a palette of earthy nuances.  Even though it was a misty, grey day, the display of golden, copper and red was so very obvious.

These are the colours of October, creating painted landscape and picturesque settings, a grand display of Autumns true flamboyance.

Autumn Morning Magic.

And so it begins.
Gently at first, as if an unseen painter used the foliage at random for trials of his palette full of ochres, reds and yellows. However very soon, the entire landscape will be bursting in every shade of warm, earthy colours.

I woke up very early today. The sky was blue, the air fresh and pristine and thus I decided to take an walk in a nearby forest.
The colour onset is suddenly so very palpable everywhere. The beautiful green is covered by strokes of red and yellow, shining like copper and gold against the azure blue sky. The morning mist gave the landscape a feel of enchantment, as the sun rays broke through the heavy foliage of trees.

I experienced a moment of autumn magic today. I found wonderful and soothing solitude in the freshness of the colours, the scent of the air and the song of the birds as I watched the first leaves fall gently to the ground...

Late Autumn Melancholy...

The first week of November brought with it the sensation of the imminence of the approaching winter. The weather grew colder and the sun has been absent. We even experienced the fall of the first snow, which however failed to leave any cover. A strong storm swept over the country in mid week, ripping through the trees, robbing them of the last of their foliage and leaving a barren landscape behind.

The nature offers the first glimpse of autumn melancholy. The clouds are dark and low, the air is damp and still, the trees almost bare and the remains of their fallen leaves lie in heaps everywhere. There is a feeling of sad tranquility in my surroundings, however it seems not to darken my spirits. On the contrary, it fills me with calming serenity as I watch the fragile daylight slowly disappear.

(Please click to enlarge.)

Final Splendor.

My garden is now in its absolutely last display of mature beauty. The surroundings are drenched in every shade of golden and red, as we experience the culmination of the fall colours.
In a couple of weeks, the same spot will become a cold and uninviting place. Barren as well, when all the beautiful leaves have turned and disappeared during a late autumn storm. The naked branches of caprifolium and clematis, with its dried brown left overs of the foliage, will stretch in a snake like manner, enveloping my fence, creating a winter nostalgia. It will be difficult to believe that once these were carrying scented white or cobalt blue flowers, with juicy green leaves, in the midst of the summer.

But until then, my terrace still is a secluded spot, which can offer a couple of hours of fragile sunshine, if the conditions are right. When the high pressure brings crisp air from the east, it becomes a shielded oasis, where the last rays of the autumn sun can be enjoyed.
Covered in blankest with a hot cup of coffee, I love to relish in the last splendor of the nature, before it retreats to enjoy its long winter sleep.