Untamed Waters.

Taking a walk along the pristine beaches in the proximity of my home, I am once again reminded of the incredible power of the North Sea.
Watching the surf, the crushing waves bring to mind the run of wild horses, untamed animals in all their feral beauty.
The arctic wind, the salty aerosol, the incredibly enchanting sights of colours and shapes, the roaring sound - they all are the make up of an awe invoking allure of nature.
Yet walking there, hand in hand with a lover, one can not imagine a warmer and safer place...

(All images here taken this week at the North Sea, during our short, romantic getaway.:) 

October Sky.

As we reach mid-fall, the sun is visibly vanishing, rising later and setting earlier by each passing day. However, the low lying golden disc offers once again stunning views of a dramatic sky, which becomes so apparent during my daily commute. It is a precious farewell gift from nature, like a final wonder, while we are slowly submerged into an early twilight.

Thus I can not help but marvel at the beauty that accompanies me on the road currently. In fact, I am at times touched deeply by these stunning vistas, which come across almost as if being biblical or divine, when the celestial sphere turns into breathtaking painting full of colours and light.
I try to relish in these sights as much as I can, knowing that very soon, for months to come, my drive home will be conducted under a thick blanket of darkness...

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”
Rabindranath Tagore

Midnight Twilligt Finale.

The eighth of August officially marks the conclusion of our white nights. This means sadly that the second season is closing towards its end.
Yet, as we enter the summer finale, I am also entering the last weeks of my solitude. In less than a month, I will once again rest in the arms of the man I love, welcoming him home. I look forward to this time with excitement, longing and anticipation.

I have neglected to update this online diary as of lately and have graced this page with my absence. It is all unintentional - the will is there and my draft folder is full of reflective writing complimented by stunning photography. Yet I have simply not been able to find the time to share it all with you.
The reason might be that my move North has been a very successful move in every possible way. I have found not just true love and happiness here, but also a new family and new friends - all of these have added purpose and content to my days, drawing my attention and time elsewhere in a very welcomed way.
Thus despite my solitude, I have not really been alone - nor bored.

The only day of the week that allows me to spend my time here undisturbed is on a Friday morning. Immersed in the silence of a newborn day, I currently enjoy sitting outside with a cup of fresh brewed coffee, savoring the warmth of a late summer sun on my face, watching its rays reflected in our dew covered lawn. The sunshine carries with it a promise of a new, beautiful day, when anything can unfold and anything is possible.
These are those perfect moments in time that reinforce the allure of just being alive.

Nature and its endless enchantment and beauty is responsible for the best memories I carry within my recollection. Just like the photography below.
These images are my farewell tribute to the summer sun, as it now slowly accelerates its departure from our views. Captured one evening this July, from a house on a small picturesque island in the Swedish archipelago, they allowed me to marvel over a stunning sunset as it unfolded in my view for over ninety minutes, ending shortly before midnight.
Until next year.

(Note: The photographs below are taken in Sweden last month.
However the images throughout the post are taken in the proximity of our home last week, as I enjoyed an evening stroll along the North Sea with good friends.) 

Beads On Silk.

With only a few warm weeks here and there, this summer has been one of the coldest ones on record. The sun holds enough heat to warm up the ground during the day, yet the cold arctic air streaming until very recently straight from the North Pole has kept our nights unseasonably cool and our mornings defined by dew, the droplets of which hold a hidden beauty to be found by an early riser.

Our lawn is full of miniature spiders which spin their invisible, tiny webs in the twilight of the white nights. Their masterpieces are usually unseen to the human eye. Yet, morning dew and even soft rain visualize these silky, fragile architectures for a few hours upon dawn. Resembling glass beads threaded on silk, one can marvel over this natural wonder of nature, before the sun burns the water droplets away, hiding these treasures from our view, as if they never even existed at all ...

(Please click images for a better view)

Amethyst Stars.

Seven years ago I purchased two plants and planted them together in the same pot. Being still the very inexperienced gardener then, I experimented myself to knowledge and made a few mistakes along the way - as to be expected.

One of the plants completely vanished in the end of the summer, the other kept on going all the way until the first frost in late November. I knew both were perennials, as it said so on the little tags that accompanied the plants. Thus I just let the survivor stand outside during winter, hoping for the best, yet watching it sadly as it slowly dried out, to eventually burn away by subzero temperatures, perishing into only a bundle of yellow stalks. And I said to myself - 'well this was another bad mistake I wont repeat again'.

In the spring the following year, as I was getting ready to toss the seemingly dead plant out, I saw small buds and green shoots appearing here and there, signifying new life. My heart skipped a beat as I became overcome with joy. Trimming away way the perished parts, I watched the plant grow and flourish, blooming with beautiful violet blue star-like flowers during the whole summer.
This continued year after year and I kept wondering how this incredibly resilient flower can come back after tough conditions, such as a few arctic winters with months of deep freeze, renewing itself annually with will and determination in the same pot, with no new soil added ever to nurture its growth...

I must admit that I do use a mild fertilizer during the summer watering, yet it is still astounding that this plant can keep growing stronger as time progresses. I never knew its name and finally now after endless and tedious research I realize it was called campanula (birch hybrid). I simply had to know, as this summer season the plant is the most stunning to date. I have never seen it flowering this magnificently - it truly thrives in our new home.

Covered fully and completely by amethyst coloured stars, it reinforces my belief in the miracle of nature and in the endless beauty of plant life.

My Campanula anno 2012

My Campanula, in July 2005, just planted with it's "yellow" friend

Secret Garden.

I grew up in apartments and thus when I purchased my first house, I had no experience in gardening. Furthermore, I had no true inclinations or any kind of emotional or practical association with a garden, not even plants. It was my mom and my sister who had the green thumb, not me. All I recall from my childhood was my mother tending to the few potted plants we had at home, changing the dirt in the spring on our balcony or patio.

My parents did live for a few years in a townhouse with a tiny backyard, which they slowly transformed into a tranquil hideaway. By that time I no longer lived at home and thus could follow the progress in growth and development every time I came to visit.
Therefore fueled by my parents enthusiasm, the two terraces of my former home became a play ground for me in terms of my gardening experimenting.

I can in no way claim to be an experienced or skillful gardener, a far cry from that I must admit. The limited knowledge I posses today was born mostly out of my mistakes. If anything, I am a perceptive gardener - I go with my feelings and intuition. Additionally I follow one simple advice I heard once spoken by an expert on a garden television show;  give a plant food, water and sun - or no sun, depending on its natural habitat.
Indeed in time I realized that is really all one needs to know. Taken together with a joy, interest and genuine love for plant life, anyone can tend to a garden and make it flourish and prosper.

The garden of my dreams is a wild and untamed one, almost a secret garden. A lush and secluded spot, which when entered feels enchanted. I am not a fan of meticulously maintained flowerbeds and trimmed bushes. To me the most beautiful is that which gets to grow free and unrestricted, creating tranquil oases, hidden from view, scented by natural perfumes. One day perhaps I will have my dream come true - until then I tend to the garden of my reality. And without any doubt, it is the only real asset of our old house.

Despite the fact that my father in law is an avid and extremely skillful gardener, my husband has no interest whatsoever in plants. To him gardening is just a bunch of boring chores, such as mowing the lawn and trimming the hedge. Thus when I moved in with him, I got the freedom and privilege to do whatever I pleased when it came to our yard.

To transform a neglected place to a lovely garden takes years and we might not even live here by then. Still, currently the outdoors offers the best therapy and seems to be the perfect recipe to cure my temporary sadness and loneliness. There is nothing like planting something and watching it grow and thrive. I take immense joy in looking after the plants and I survey them each day, looking for small changes that might have occurred over night. It gives me such a great satisfaction when the sun is out and I can tend to all the life that seems to spire and excel outside my home.

I can sense that our garden has already been established once, I only had to revive that which was already there - a multitude of roses, lilies, hollies, hollyhocks and scented shrubs. I added a few potted plants and flower baskets to our patio and planted a few vines to transform it into a lush and tranquil spot. I am also currently experimenting with seeds, which promise to grow into scented bloom attracting butterflies. Tending to our garden this way, I leave small souvenirs for the future occupants of the house. An imprint of my time here. Hopefully they will rejoice in the bloom I introduce just as I enjoy the the work of our predecessors. 

Gardening is like exercise - it must become a way of life, or it looses it's allure and is impossible to maintain. To me though there is nothing more magical than the outdoors. Plant and animal life and natural beauty holds almost a primal affection in my perception as the connection with nature is ancient and contained within my genes. I have always found solace and affirmation in its pristine beauty and will continue to see all natural life as an endless source of miracles and enchantment.

(All images in this post are taken in our garden, June 2012)

Allure In Rain.

This past weekend simply rained away. After cold, autumn like days with strong winds, the week concluded in heavy precipitation.
As I recovered from my initial irritation, realizing I had to spend my free days indoors, dreaming of the non existent sunshine - I realized that there was a certain hidden beauty in rain.

It was clear that the vital liquid revived my surroundings. Everything turned supple and lush and seemed revitalized and incredibly green. Indeed, even the colours of flowers appeared more vibrant and brighter than in sunshine.

I gave into the urge to walk out onto our lawn barefoot, in between the downpours, laughing and feeling giddy like a school girl. Do you recall how fun it used to be to get soaked?
Greeted by that incredible fragrance that rain leaves behind - a blend of wet soil, perfumes of bloom and humid air, I saw natural beauty, as drops of water lingered everywhere, like crystal beads strewn onto the stalks of grass, leaves of trees and shrubs and the petals of the early summer bloom.
Nature is alluring and surprising in any weather and in any season. All we need to do is to notice.

Vernal Bloom Revisited.

We have entered the first summer month and yet it feels weather wise as if we have stepped into fall. What a difference a week can make - the end of May was hot and sunny, while now rain and grey skies with plummeting temperatures are our reality.

Still, officially summer arrives first in a few weeks, thus the hope for sunny skies, hot days and warm nights is nevertheless alive.
One thing we will be granted for sure - the culmination of white nights - as the countdown to summer solstice has already commenced.

Before it all truly begins,  I would love though to take you back to the past three months in pictures. Back to the time that is infinitely defined by bloom, awakenings and growth.
Discovering our garden in spring, I enjoyed watching the vernal bloom and marveled over its versatility in regards to the blossom period, the colours, the texture and consistency of the flowers and of course, the scent. I saw some familiar faces yet also made my acquaintance with some novel beauties, walking around our garden with camera in hand.

As always, so much treasure waits to be discovered just outside our doorstep - if we only look.

(I participated with this post on Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop)

Monday Reflections.

Looking into the mirror the other day I wondered amusingly who was that old woman staring back at me. Those drooping creases around her mouth, deep crowfeet around her eyes, a lack of luster and suppleness in the cheeks, the grey hair.

I find aging to be a very unsettling process, as it is so very relative and extremely exponential. It sneaks upon us, comes out of nowhere and is unstoppable. Yet the absolute worst thing about this inevitable physical decline must be the fact that it does not at all reflect the age we feel inside.

At times I entertain the idea of fixing it. I am a strong opponent of plastic surgery done solely for cosmetic purpose, yet I too pull the skin on my face back occasionally just for a moment in order to revisit the looks of my past. But eventually I just giggle and realize that I would rather be wrinkled as a dried up raisin, being genuine through and through than be perfectly artificial and superficial. After all, I have found that the very old cliche of beauty lying within is true. Experiences and a life lived reflected in a face in combination with an inner glow radiating happiness makes a human being endlessly attractive.

Indeed, time moves forward whether we like it or not and yet another winter is ending - way too fast. I am now only two months away from an event I dread. By each passing day this inevitable occurrence occupies my thinking more frequently, as I try hard to find positive aspects of the impeding separation from the man I love. They are few to none I am afraid.
Thus I work hard presently on one of my greatest drawbacks - the need for control. Anything beyond my control unsettles and worries me. Being with a man that is a total opposite in this trait makes me realize that if I relax and let events unfold, everything will be fine. Still, old habits die hard.

I watch the spring sun illuminate our windows and see how dusty they are. It makes me smile as I recall the windows of my white house on the hill. Just a year ago I had no idea that twelve months down the road I would no longer live there. At times I miss the unrestricted view of the sky, which instigated a sense of liberation. I also miss some of my possessions. It is an odd feeling having had a large home filled with items that belonged to me only, to have them suddenly gone. Sometimes I wonder when/if I will ever see them again - and when I do, will that make me happy?

For someone who has lived on her own more than half of her life, I find it very easy to share a home with a new family. I have adapted and have gotten accustomed to this house, which is so very different from my former home. When all the children are here with us, it is way too small and too crowded. Still, during those times it exuberates life and love, something that I can no longer - nor will no longer - be without. Despite the fact that I once had almost thirteen hundred square feet for myself,  I am today perfectly happy and content when I can escape for just a few minutes to my favourite spot in the kitchen. Here I can sit undisturbed with my laptop at the table, watching the birch tree branches sway in the wind outside the window against pink sunrises, while I listen to the sound and laughter of my loved ones in close proximity.

Yes, this house is certainly too small and too old. With almost half a century on its back, it is outdated and old fashioned.
Nevertheless, I smile as I realize it is just like me.
Similar in age, it is no longer supple and young. But it is original and endlessly beautiful because it has seen and felt life that is preserved between its walls. It has a soul that has been fueled by the presence of its occupants. Somewhere deep within I sense that right now it is making memories that will last a life time.
And so am I.

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.