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...

What's Another Year...

Returning from my extended absence, I find it somewhat difficult to adequately begin the very first post of this year.
I have drafted so many over the course of the Holidays, yet finding no opportunity to polish my writing into an acceptable format due to lack of time, it slowly became outdated and obsolete.
Additionally, I am experiencing an unexpected decline in my language skills. Despite the fact that I can express myself in five languages, English has until now been without a doubt the one I master the best - I can speak it fluently, write it with ease and I can use it to convey all aspects of life - both personal and professional.

I became proficient at speaking English during my years in the US and continued to excel in it while conversing on every day bases with the Irishman.
Today however he is long gone from my life and instead I find myself talking exclusively in Danish with my husband, my extended family and the kids. Slowly I begin lacking words and writing has become cumbersome, as a new vocabulary takes over my thinking.

It is odd, being in this linguistic no man's land, even though I have tried it numerous times before. Yet in my adult years I no longer posses the brilliance and speed of a young mind. Thus eventually, I can never fully master the novel tongue, while the old slowly begins to disappear into a vocabulary abeyance.
Being multilingual is a blessing and a curse.

Still, my love for writing is always there, simmering in the background. I thoroughly enjoy putting down my thoughts into words, documenting my life in the process, even though very little life altering wisdom can be perceived in my reflections these days.
Today I do more living than thinking.

Thus as the two faced God Janus once again seizes the reign over our world, I wonder what is in store for me as I set out onto a novel voyage through another set of pristine twelve months. Looking ahead, there is so much anticipation; a new home, perhaps a new job. The future seems undefined and adventurous.

Yet simultaneously, it comes across as unsettling.

By the time summer reaches its peak, I will once again see the love of my life temporary leaving me. Having tried it before, I know what to expect - many sleepless nights, torment, anguish and longing. Even though our forthcoming separation might be nothing like the last one, I brace myself for the hardship of yet another set of four months without him by my side, while I will try to find the courage deep within to be the woman he needs me to be, allowing him to fully concentrate on what he has been trained to do.
Having lived on my own more than half a life time I have no problems with solitude. In fact, I am very peculiar about the people I associate with and I rather be alone than in crowds.
With this said though, never before have I had such a desire to constantly crave the company of another human being, as I do my husband's. I covet his close proximity, his touch and caress. I miss him intensely even when we are apart for a day.  
"You're different with him. He moves, you move. Like magnets..." - an excerpt from a dialogue in the Twilight Saga series, no other set of words could more adequately describe my own romance.

Looking back, I conclude that so many years in my past have come and gone, melting together into this undefinable span of time, vanishing into oblivion. I like to believe that these were not wasted, but served a purpose in their own right, becoming an intermission in my life, when days progress in slow pace and when my being did strive to renew itself, while in pursuit of my dreams.
I carry a few such years in my suitcase and will without any doubt encounter these in my future.

Yet I also carry the memories of years that defined me, changing the course of my personal history, compelling me to set out onto epic journeys. These did not always end well, yet they were full of adventures and paramount progress. I feel that a lifespan that alternates the period of action with period of leisure and lethargy, is full and complete.

As I so perceptively perceived a couple of years ago, the period of the latest stagnation has passed and I have entered my personal golden age.
When - if - I once get the privilege to look back upon this part of my life, I will always remember it as one of the happiest. It will go down in my recollection as the most intense and vibrant.
I will always view it as the onset of my very own 'Age Of Aquarius'.

Tangelo Twilight.

There is something noticeably different about our daylight. Almost one month since winter solstice, our day has already increased by fifty minutes, a difference that can certainly be perceived.

This past weekend as I stood in our kitchen preoccupied with my own thoughts, the silhouette of our birch suddenly caught my eye, as it stood illuminated by the setting sun, against an evening sky defined by peach and iris blue coloured hue. The day has aged into twilight, my favorite kind of light. I love the time of dusk, with its contagious stillness and enchanted atmosphere.

As I stood there watching, the surroundings grew the hue of tangelo. I had to walk out, camera in my hand, witnessing a natural wonder, while the beauty of the first visible mid winter sunset unfolded through the barren trees in our backyard. The amber coloured skies created a sense of preview of what is to come, as winter moves into the second half of its reign.

Vacant Winter.

Although only at the onset of January, very slowly we are approaching mid-winter.
However, looking at my surroundings, nature looks more as if we have stepped into March. This season the snow has been absent, as well as sub zero temperatures, tricking the natural process to speed up.

Roses are in bloom, trees and shrubs are covered by new shoots and the grass by spring flowers, such as daisies. And the crocuses I planted in my new garden this October are already pushing through the ground.

Still, according to the calender, spring is months away and all we can do is hope and pray that indeed this winter will be mild. After two years of arctic conditions we need a break.

My state of mind currently mimics nature.
This year I want winter to last forever. Yet it seems to move forward with light speed, each day and week hurries along, bringing spring and eventually summer, ever so close, yet again underscoring the fact that everything is relative. Least of all time.
Thus feeling currently as if I am running out of time, my every spare moment is almost exclusively spend with the man I love and his family, explaining my lack of posts and visits. Comes summer, I will be forced to do without him for months, a thought which fills me with sadness and my eyes with tears.

Fortunately, as always when something wears heavy around my heart, I find my solace in nature. As yet another full moon shone its platinum shine in my view this past weekend and I relished in its enchanting beauty, I was reminded of the fact that everything comes in cycles and that a full life is a delicate balance between darkness and light.

Courage and Passion.

"Courage to let go of fears and insecurities, courage to take a leap of faith, courage to surrender to our destiny and ultimately courage to give into love and to life itself, despite the incredible uncertainty of the future.
And I intend to be courageous with a fiery passion, as passion is what I do best."

The above lines were the final sentences in my post almost exactly a year ago. Today they feel so ominous, as they are the very essence of the experiences, which defined 2011 for me.

Brand new twelve months await and as we enter January and our reality is once again a pristine canvas, so much has the possibility to unfold.
Being in an entirely different place than I was a year ago, I still wish to be courageous with passion, as I will truly need a lot of both to get me through 2012. I know without any doubt that hardship awaits, but I hope that it will be lessened by the love and happiness that fills my heart.

A few days back, when I brought the large case filled with empty containers back into the house from our garage, in order to pack away our Christmas ornaments, a sudden movement within one of the boxes startled me. A dark small shape jumped into my view, only to disappear deeper into the trunk, small feet scurrying within the case, under all the tinsel and ornament crates, causing me to hold my breath and freeze with surprise. I grabbed the case and carried it quickly outside, far away from Sammy's proximity (the cat). Removing all the empty boxes one by one, I finally reached the bottom of the trunk and the small culprit, that has chewed its contents into pieces. A little mouse stared right back at me, its eyes dark like two onyx buttons, the nose pink and ears drawn back. Crouching in the corner, paralyzed by fear, it stood still long enough for me to get a few snapshots, watching me intensely before vanishing into the shrubs through a small hole in the case.

I had to smile with amusement, as this was my first close encounter with a mouse ever. Contemplating this I realized that even though considered vermin and a nuisance, mice are actually very symbolic animals.
Having a distinctive place in the Chinese horoscope, a mouse or a rat stands for frugality, determination, perseverance and courage and even new beginnings and rebirth. And then there is the fable of The Lion and The Mouse, a favourite of mine ever since I was a child.

Thus I guess my chance meeting with a cute rodent was indeed allegorical. A small vivacious animal that found enough courage to look me in the eye, as if to remind me to be courageous myself, embracing - with fiery passion - all that awaits down the line.

Ninety Minutes More.

As we approach the end of the first month of the year, a hint of change can be perceived in my surroundings. Barely there, yet nevertheless palpable. The increase in daylight.

This past week, this difference was so very clearly felt as I watched the sun set behind a birch tree and no longer behind the hills in the south. After days of fog and rain, a beautiful colour adorned the evening skies, blood red and dark velvet blue, extending the evening light.

Our days have now gained almost exactly ninety minutes more - one hour in the evening and thirty minutes in the morning. Already this small increase lifts ours spirits and fills our hearts with expectations and promises of lighter times ahead.

Below a set of comparison images between December and January sunset - what a difference a month can make. All images are taken from my windows.

Winter Interlude.

Lady Winter took a small intermission this week. Perhaps her reign has been so intense in the past two months, that she needed an interlude to catch her breath, thus causing her to slightly loosen her icy grip.

Warm, humid air, almost alien at this time of the year, streamed for days over southern Scandinavia, prompting almost all the snow to vanish, as if it never been there at all. The bare ground - so unusual to our eyes, which are used to the white cover - exposed two simultaneous seasons.

Broken twigs and putrefied leaves and remains of flowers from our past autumn emerged through the melting ice. Silent symbols of the moving time, moments of the past locked in frozen water and preserved under snow.
The retreating snow cover however also disclosed signs of renewal as well. Fresh buds and the stalks of crocuses, pushing upwards through the temporarily soft ground, bearing witness to the imminence of spring.

The seasonal change is still far removed from our reality and winter is far from done yet. Still, this short interlude was a beautiful reminder of one unmistakable fact; despite us still being in depths of the cold season, the preparation for spring in nature has already begun.

Halfway Through...

Reaching mid January, we have reached midwinter. Surprisingly, it has arrived much faster than I have anticipated.

Our December was unusually white and sunny, thus there has been an overall lack of grey, drizzly and dark twilight days, that are so common at my latitudes.

Even though currently the snow is slowly melting away - compliments of our first serious winter thaw - the initial weeks of this month have passed with unprecedented speed.

Winter holds very little of my affection. However, recently my mindset has reached an altered state, where every season has grown to encompass a novel meaning in my eyes. To my surprise, there has been a total absence of the depression that I usually feel around this time of the year. Maybe I have instinctively realized a purpose to everything that nature - and our destiny - undertakes and my perception seems to be in tune with it's master plan, bringing a certain peace into my whole being. A true happiness and content that has been lacking in my days for a long time...

Midwinter is palpable everywhere and to me it symbolizes a continuous time of rest and stillness, just like at the onset of this cold season. Nevertheless, very gently and in a very subtle way, I can also sense notions of anticipation. A suggestive awareness lying beneath the stillness, a renewal process taking place, as nature prepares to commence yet another cycle of life and growth.

Luna Crescens.

Even though I stated in my previous post that I take the significance of my zodiac sign lightly, the fact that the crab is ruled by the moon is indeed accurately reflected in my endless attraction to this celestial body.
I am infinitely fascinated by this natural satellite of the Earth - there is simply nothing more ethereal, almost hypnotic, then the cool shine of the silver disc as it floats so effortlessly in the night sky.

I view the moon as utterly mysterious and extremely feminine. At all times I experience a transcending connection to its presence in the ebony blue velvet above me and I watch it appear and disappear with an awe that only grows as I grow older. No mater where I am, no matter what I do, as soon as the moon rises in the heavens, it holds my undivided attention, sending me into a trance like state where nothing else exists  but my connection to its significance.

And indeed, it carries a significance that most of us very rarely contemplate. The way it rules our waters through tidal effects, the way it mesmerizes us through the lunar eclipses and the importance with which this silvery orbiter has impacted our lives through history. Not just in fables and beliefs, forming our cultures and traditions, but also as the symbol of our dreams. A strong desire to explore the outer space, in order to gain an insight into the enigma that is the universe, perhaps unlocking the key to life itself.

These past days the moon has been Waxing Crescent  - in Latin; Luna Crescens - and has just reached the First Quarter. In about six days it will be full for the first time this year- instigating my favorite time of the month. The week leading up to full moon - or in Latin, Luna Plena - is when I feel the happiest and look my best.

To those of you who are interested, here are some fun moon facts:

• The Moon makes 1 rotation and completes a revolution around the Earth every 27 days, 7 hours, and 43 minutes.  That's about 28 days.

• The moon is about 1/4 the size of the Earth.

• Only 59% of the moon's surface is visible from earth.

• From Earth, we always see the same side of the moon; the other side is always hidden – it is also know as "the dark side of the moon".

• It is possible to have a month without a full moon. This occurs in February, but either January or March will have two moons.

• When a month has two full moons, the second full moon is called a blue moon. Another definition of a blue moon is the third full moon in any season (quarter of year) containing 4 total full moons.

• When Neil Armstrong took that historical step of "one small step for man one giant step for mankind" it would not have occurred to anyone that the step he took in the dust of the moon was there to stay. It will be there for at least 10 million years. 

• The prevailing hypothesis today is that the Earth–Moon system formed as a result of a giant impact: a Mars-sized body hit the nearly formed proto-Earth, blasting material into orbit around the proto-Earth, which accreted to form the Moon.

• Moon phases in Latin: luna nova, luna nascens, novilunium, interlunium, luna dimidia crescens, luna falcata, luna semiformis, luna plena, plenilunium, luna dimidia decrescens, luna falcata, luna semiformis

January Austerity.

I love the holidays more than any other time of the year.
December to me is full of colours, of red and green, purple and even orange, silver and golden, so vibrant and illuminated. I thoroughly enjoy and give into all the opulence of the Christmas decorations, which is reflected in my home, so abundant with all the nuances of the season.

However, in my perception all this ends as soon as the clock strikes midnight on New Years Eve. It is almost an instant and yet a very effortless transition that takes place within me. Even though the holidays officially end with the commencing Epiphany, in my home they have already concluded.
All the decorations are taken away, tree is cut up and recycled and my entire state of mind craves simplicity.
In my mind, January is colourless and plain. Nevertheless it is also infinitely tranquil, just likes the pristine snow blanket outside. An empty canvas, beckoning to be painted by experiences of the coming year.

Thus my eyes are presently drawn to the plain objects in my home. To that which is austere and modest. Unadorned and humble, yet still so very beautiful, instigating a sense of purification that is so refreshing as we leave the grandeur of December behind.

Crossing The Annual Doorway.

The God of the Doorway is yet again ruling our present.
January is here and with it, all the bittersweet sentiments that come from endings and simultaneous beginnings.

As we brush away the confetti from our hair, recovering from champagne daze and smoke of fireworks - whether we make resolutions or not - we are all facing a pristine year ahead of us. It is ready to be seized and conquered, made into anything we like, as long as we dare to dream and imagine.

Just like the two faced God Janus, looking forward and backward, I can not help but feel a sense of nostalgia as I let go of the last twelve months of my own life. A time of so many changes, a time of happiness and sorrow, of laughter and pain, and most of all a time filled with so many unforgettable moments, those that will become a silver lining on the mental photographs stored in the corners of my memories.  I feel enriched and grateful for all that destiny has bestowed upon me as yet another year is added to the creases of my face. However the lines instigate a strong sense of satisfaction, not dismay. They tell a tale of a year lived and that is is all that I aspire to.

Looking ahead, there is so much promise in the commencing twelve months and I intend to embrace it all, without restrictions. After all, experiences have taught me, that life brings our way wonderful things, but it often takes courage to savor them fully.

Courage to let go of fears and insecurities, courage to take a leap of faith, courage to surrender to our destiny and ultimately courage to give into love and to life itself, despite the incredible uncertainty of the future.

And I intend to be courageous with a fiery passion, as passion is what I do best.
Happy 2011 everyone.

Winter Sunrise.

The slight increase in our daylight these days means that the sun is not just setting later, but it is rising earlier and earlier each day as well.

Last week, for the first time since last October, I woke up to a true imminent sunrise. The sky in the southeast was on fire. As the world was coming alive and gearing up for the fast paced motion of daily life, I remained still for an instant.
Watching the calm ocean in the distance, in such an obvious contrast to the stress of the morning commute, I relished in the moment of absolute tranquility, as the rising sun drenched the neighbourhood in a fragile winter morning light...

"End Of The Endless."

The endless month we call January is actually ending. Amazingly, it went by a lot quicker than I am used to. I am not sure why, but the feel of an oppressive eternity seems to have been absent this year.

Perhaps it is due to the presence of the snow, turning our surroundings brighter and lighter. Perhaps it was the lack off fog and rain or the fact that the sunshine hours even outnumbered November. In any case, today is the last day of January.

Even though we are still standing in midwinter, there is a slight, but palpable change in the air.

The sun.

It is clearly moving higher up in the sky. I can not adequately explain in words what this means. Or how important it is. We have by now gained about 90 minutes more light since the winter solstice and the quality of the daylight has been visibly altered. The sunshine is more platinum than golden and the sunsets occur later and last longer.

It is the first significant sign foretelling that although spring is nowhere in sight, winter has reached - and passed - its peak.

Time Captured In Snow.

The winters in southern Scandinavia are in contrary to popular belief quiet temperate. They feel cold, due to the damp, windy conditions, but on average, the temperatures will stay around 5C during the day and around freezing, or just below freezing in the night. The Gulf Stream keeps our weather very stable, thus our winters are mild and our summers cool. Not my kind of weather at all, if you ask me.

However, as with every rule, there are exceptions. Every few years we do get large amount of snowfall, particularly in January and February, making our winters feel long and at times endless. December snow is very rare and the fact that our Christmas 2009 was white is highly unusual and happens on average every fifteen years. Since that very snow fall in the middle of December last year we have experienced record breaking weather conditions. In fact the temperatures have remained below freezing, way below freezing almost constantly for six weeks. The few hours of plus degrees did not manage to thaw very much of the very first snow away and in periods, we continue to receive fresh addition, such as yesterday night. Thus everywhere I look I see fresh snow, but also old snow. The remains of December snow are clearly visible. My garden furniture, my flower pots and my lounge chair are all covered by snow that is by now six weeks old.

As I walk around my terrace, gazing at the old layers, which still look as white and pristine as when they fell, I realized that I am - in an interesting and unique way - revisiting the past. Minutes, days and weeks, all captured in frozen precipitation we call snow...

Snow Therapy.

The other day I heard on the news that snow, or snow covered landscape, helps ease our winter depression. The white colour reflects light and aids greatly in making us up here in the cold and dark North feel happier.

I have to agree. January is usually a dreadful month. Dark, drizzly, cold and absolutely endless. This year though I perceive it very differently. I do indeed feel happier and I am less tired. Snow has been covering the ground for the past five weeks and with the returning daylight my surroundings indeed look beautiful and enchanting.

It has also been extremely cold. This is the third week of constant subzero temperatures and the effect is very obvious on the evergreens. I have never ever seen them looking so sad. Their leaves look thin and flat and have rolled into themselves like ancient parchment. Particularly the Rhododendron looks unrecognizable. It already displays buds, which will result in beautiful magenta flowers in June and it will then become the most beautifully coloured bush in my garden. Its appearance right now makes it absolutely impossible to imagine that this will come to pass, as it indeed doesn't look very much alive. It is enticing to ponder how such a delicate plant can survive this extreme weather.

Nature is a constant source of magic, at any time of the year.

Midwinter.

We have passed mid January and according to the calender, we have reached midwinter. We are halfway there; a very pleasant notion to ponder.
Although spring will most likely not arrive in March, in about one and a half month, its imminence will at least be in the air.

Right now, my terrace displays absolutely no life signs. Every plant seems lifeless, like sleeping beauty awaiting awakening. Even the evergreens look sad, affected by the cold, covered by icy snow. Last January we had an average temperature of about 8C (46F). This year we have not reached temperatures above freezing for more than a few hours and are heading towards the coldest January in more than twenty years.

The only place to be is tucked away safely in front of the fire with a hot cup of chocolate and a good book. And Batcat.
Wishing you all a lovely Saturday.

Recycling The Tree.

Yesterday I took down my Christmas Tree. Traditionally this happens in my home the first weekend after the Epiphany.

It is the same every year; when the Holidays end, it is time to end the short visit of The Tree. As I take down each and every single ornament and place it back into the red Christmas box, I try to remember the joy that the tree spread around my home for the past five weeks. The box is placed on a shelf, where it will stay untouched for another year, until the wonderful time returns in December.

I try to recycle as much of the tree as I can. The branches are cut away and used in my garden to protect the sprouting spring bulbs and for decoration in empty pots. The trunk is cut into smaller pieces and left to dry. Perhaps in twelve months, just when new tree is welcomed into my home, it will spread cosy heat through out my house when burned in the fireplace.

The God Of The Doorway.

So here we are, still recovering from our New Years celebrations and trying to remember (and to keep) our resolutions, as we enter the first month of a new year. And a new decade. And if you are like me, you might sense a void, or a feeling of emptiness, as January is in a certain way an anticlimax to the month of December, which passed too quickly with all the joy and lights of the Christmas Holidays.

I have to admit that I dislike January. This poor month most likely doesn't deserve it, but it holds very little of my affection. It is one of the longest months of the year. Not in the amount of days, but in the sense that it feels endless.
Named after Janus, the Roman God of the Gates or Doorways, often depicted with two faces, one gazing backward and one forward, it signifies a simultaneous end and a new beginning.

I never make any resolutions and I dislike any kind of endings. Therefore New Years Eve leaves me usually with a sting of melancholy. Still, I have decided to try to see things differently this time. After all, the promise of a new beginning and a fresh start is one of the most intriguing parts of life. The sense of expectations, the idea of new experiences in the coming twelve months that are to be filled with marvel, joy, and moments of happiness, as well as occasional pain or sorrow - to keep our reality in balance. A plethora of events that makes every year special and exciting, like a brilliant pearl in a precious necklace that is life.

As I stand in the doorway between the new and the old, in the midst of the cold and very dark, never ending winter - just like the God Janus, looking back with sweet melancholy at what was, I am also looking forward with excitement to what is to be.

Last Sunday Of January.

January is almost over. Named after Janus, the god of the doorway, the dreary month has only one more week left to go. I feel sorry for January, as it is hated by so many. Me included.
I am trying though, to do my best to find something good about this poor month. I am an optimist at heart and so here is a small list of positive things, to wish it good bye;

1. The days ARE getting longer, in contrast to December.
2. As the first month of the year, it offers us fresh starts and new beginnings.
3. January Sundays are perfect to sit curled up in front of the fireplace with a good book or watching movies, without bad conscious of wasting a day.
4. This month is as made for using and burning many candles.
5. The best (the long days of summer) is YET to come.