Here And Away.

Unintentionally, I have granted this diary with my absence.
Since my last post, cold spring turned into almost an early summer; trees, shrubs and bushes went from bare to green and bursting with bloom; the sun has gained in strength and our days grew longer, giving us several hours of extended light.
The best time of the year has indeed begun and I intend to enjoy it as much as I can, in the company of my family and foremost the man that I love, before his duty takes him away from me for months to come...

Thus forgive me that I am here now, but gone again. This is not a good bye however, this only to let you know that I will be back very soon, my dear friends. ♥

The Sunday of Summer.

August Bloom In Our Garden

August is much like a Sunday. It is still weekend, but the threat of Monday is imminent. In the case of August; it is still summer, yet autumn is approaching fast.

The second season this year was a total disappointment weather wise, going down as one of the coldest and rainiest in history. Luckily, its ultimate month did granted us a few warm days, even if they came a little too late. That unmistakable finale hangs now in the air, while the sun lies ever so low above the horizon and its shine grows golden. The atmosphere resonates with maturity, as crops grow heavy and all the fruit and berries ripen, getting ready for the harvest at the onset of fall.

Although I am saddened by the fact that my favorite time of the year is concluding, the seasonal changes are nevertheless reassuring and simultaneously alluring. The natural circle mimics the events in our own life, where the good and the bad alternates, creating a vital balance.
The older I get, the more I begin to realize that everything, whether it is positive or negative, has its purpose to play. So many times in my past have I seen my dreams crushed and that which I have hoped for pass me by, yet in hindsight I know that the doors that eventually opened led me to better places.

Heart Formed By Our Candle

This is how I met my husband - after a period of tragedy, disappointment and personal loss, feeling discarded and abandoned, I painfully watched as a door slowly closed forever on an ineradicable dream. Yet as I picked myself up, gathering the last of my strength, ready to continue living again, refusing to give into despair and resignation, for once I decided to walk through the gate that was opened  -  and there he stood, the man of my dreams. The one I have been waiting and feverishly searching for my whole life, offering me hope, love and new dreams. I will forever be left wondering how this came to be and only a belief in the spiritual and divine offers any explanation.
Very soon I will once again gaze into those steel blue eyes of his, deep and enticing like the North Sea, holding so much love and affection, as I once again fall into his embrace - the only place I feel completely safe and sheltered.

Until then, I see those same eyes in his children, while they laugh and rummage through the house, having kept me company this week. Thus my own, however deeply embedded parental instincts are brought to life. I am glad to notice how relaxed they are now around me, as compared to the initial few encounters - they behave currently very much the same as when their father is here with us. A time span of a year is certainly much longer in a child's perception - at this point my presence in their reality is something constant and comforting.

My Pasta Salad

I am therefore becoming more sensitive and experienced in areas I have not needed to before. Being thrown into parenthood, never having to raise my own children, I am excelling in other parts of life, such as improving my culinary skills. Considering myself at all times a disaster in the kitchen, I have come to the conclusion that this might not necessarily be the case. I just need some practice and perhaps one day I might even enjoy cooking - and be really good at it.

So much change has taken place in the past year and a half. As I briefly return to read my old posts, I can feel that I have changed too. All the challenges, alterations and new encounters of the past sixteen months have created a novel me.

Whether I am better or worse than before is impossible for me to asses, all I know with certainty is that I am the happiest I have ever been. Every change takes something from us as well as it gives.
The best life however is the one which is a work in progress, an unfinished painting, a diamond in the rough. A blank page to be yet filled with sentences describing new adventures and life altering reflections.

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)

Half Way There...

Simple Pleasures...

Leaving the first week of July behind, I am exactly half way into my ordeal. Thinking back over the past two months, I have mixed opinions about the speed with which they have progressed - some days flew by, while some felt endless.

It has gotten easier though, to be alone, however unimaginable I though that would be. Or rather, to be without the man that I love, as I am perfectly capable to be on my own - lets face it,  I have had decades of practice.

In any case, I have settled into and accepted my new reality, developing new routines, trying to find positive aspects of my involuntary solitude. The fact that it takes very little effort on my part to find allure in the mundane helps a great deal and I do fill my life with a multitude of simple pleasures. After all, it is my experience that happiness is made out of short beautiful moments and we are the ones who create them.

I have made a new friend and meeting this delightful woman has made me realize how much I have missed a close girl friend. Due to my cosmopolitan lifestyle, I have not had one for over a decade - not counting some beautiful friendships I made online. Still, there is nothing like being able to physically spend time with someone who lives just a block away and who genuinely enjoys my company. It has been endlessly therapeutic to have another woman to talk to - preferably over a glass of good wine.

My New Friend...

She has made me laugh, cry and contemplate and amazingly 

I am finding novel avenues of thinking thanks to this encounter, learning so much about myself. 

This reinforces my perpetual belief in the importance of seemingly random encounters we make in life and the sensitivity with which we should always approach the people we meet. They all have a part to play in our life and if we give them a chance, vital lessons await to be learned.

I miss my white house much less currently, if at all. Suddenly the returning recollections of marvelous skies and sunsets do not occupy my thinking any longer. I have realized that I love the uncertainty of my future. There have been times in my past, when life seemed so predictable and indefinitely planned. Living in my white house, I knew there was not much new that awaited to be experienced, if I did not choose to make it happen - an idea which filled me on many occasions with a sense of panic.

Today this is no longer the case. I can still feel the rise of panic within me, but that has to do with fear for the safety of the man I love or the need for his presence. At times I curse the profession he holds and the fact that a separation like the current one will be a continuous occurrence in our life. Yet, simultaneously I realize that I love the very essence that his absence will provide. It gives rise to the unexpected, fueling my life with endless possibilities, preventing it from growing mundane and leaving the future open and free. Additionally, I feel endlessly proud to be loved by and to be in love with a courageous man, whose reality is defined by honor, duty, chivalry and competence.

The Celestine Prophecy

Most of my possessions are still in storage and in my solitude I find myself missing some of them, mostly old photo albums and my books. Luckily though, I did take some books with me and the other day I randomly picked up one. When I read The Celestine Prophecy for the first time those eighteen years ago, it was one of the most profound books I ever came across. Today I know it shifted something within my perception and when I return to my own writing, I realize how much it has inspired me in the way I live my life. It will be endlessly exhilarating to read it again - I wonder whether it will still move me in the same way as it did when I was a young, naive woman.

Yes, I am half way there - in my solitude, but also when it comes to the bigger picture - my life. I read recently on the news that I find myself in most depressive stage in it, with the respect to my age. Those younger or older are infinitely more happy.
We are all familiar with the curse of the midlife crises and of course, I too feel its effects occasionally. I do know that certain dreams I have had will never come true, yet I also hold the power to shift my dreams and make new ones.

Looking back I am content with my past and hold no regrets - thus I only dismiss these kind of surveys with a smile. After all, I have always lived my life as an exception to the rule and believe that happiness is a state of our mind, not the state of our age.

My New Stunning Evening Skies...

Northern Night Skies.

I recently complained about the lack of alluring views. Those that I used to marveled over in my former home. While this fact still remains, I have also realized that if I only take the time to look, stunning light shows still take place right above me.

Last week, as I opened our bedroom window close to midnight, I could glimpse beautifully painted heavens to my left. Stepping out into our garden illuminated by the twilight of a white night, I could see purple clouds moving across a scintillated sky. The traces of a late summer sunset lingered across the north, reflecting the sun which moved just below the horizon on its way to the east, in order to rise in just a few hours.

I stood there in the stillness of the colourful night and felt deeply sentimental, as I got enveloped in bittersweet remembrance of what once was, while fully aware of the magic I was witnessing right then and there and simultaneously exhilarated about the endless possibilities of what is yet to come...

Midsummer Night.

We have crossed yet another seasonal threshold.
The day of the Summer Solstice is such an enchanting occurrence and yet it also instigates a gentle melancholy in me.

June is signified by the duality of Gemini and thus the first summer day reflects too a joy and simultaneously a sadness. A pinnacle of light has been reached – even though summer is only beginning; the sun now embarks onto a reverse journey away from us, shortening our daylight by each passing week...

Ever since my move north a year ago, I rarely thought about the stunning vistas at the white house - yet I do so very much currently and I truly miss them...
Gone is the unrestricted view of the horizon, the mesmerizing late night sunsets, which set the heaven on fire, the beauty of the illuminated midnight sky and the enticing glow of noctilucent clouds - these light shows played out in front of my windows almost every day through out the summer - year after year, never to loose their allure.

Our low lying house has no extraordinary views to speak off. The only sign telling me we are indeed amidst the time of the white nights are our solar lamps and lanterns, decorating the shielded patio and glowing silently yet persistently in the dusk that has replaced the nights.

And yet, stepping out into our garden in the stillness of the midnight twilight, I can nevertheless trace the silvery sky beyond the treetops and gaze mesmerized at the starless heavens above me as we cross into the small hours of the morning. Unmistakably, the air holds an aura of enchantment and one can easily fall for the magic of the Midsummer Night, when secret portals are open and the esoteric lurks in the shadows.

June Reflections.

June is my favorite month of the year, without a doubt, closely followed by July and May. I am a summer child and those of you who have been following my writing for years know that I and Mr. Summer are involved in a candid, but everlasting love affair.
I love June mostly for its light. Living almost as north as one can in Denmark, I carry out currently almost a daily ritual of stepping outside close to midnight, to feast my eyes on the illuminated night sky.

Climate wise, June and overall the third season in Scandinavia can be defined as a warmer spring, or April times three. Summer often rains away and it feels as if it ends before it even begun, while we still patiently wait for it to start. The days when the temperatures sneak above 20C can often be counted on the fingers of one hand. However, once in a blue moon we do also have exceptional summers that defy the rule and every year we hope that this will be the one.

As I sat bundled up in our garden a week back, enduring strong winds and clouds, risking to catch pneumonia, the occasional sun peaking through and it's warming rays hitting my face felt though like a vital therapy. The air was incredibly fresh. Inhaling it deeply I felt it purified my entire being. It's consistency so clear, so icy cold yet so clean and so saturated by the scent of the North Sea. I was suddenly - and momentarily - in awe of the weather conditions in the land I call home. I found inspiration in the rugged beauty, unpredictability and a life force of this climate, the one that fuels growth, lushness and bloom.

Sensing the weather elements with all my being, my eyes were drawn to an ivory clematis, planted by the previous tenants of the house. My husband is a perfect man in many ways, but he is definitely no gardener and the plant has been neglected for years. This spring the vine received the proper care and thus it grows with uncanny speed, stretching its tentacle like leafstalks ever so higher up the wooden terrace pole. I watched them swaying in the gale force winds and simultaneously could not help but notice that some grabbed onto the wooden pole in an almost human like way. The growing stalks of clematis are extremely delicate - pull slightly and they will break. Yet they can cling onto a surface in the most dexterous and proficient way, appearing tough and rugged, almost like there is mastermind, an intelligent thinking behind this action. It made me contemplate plants as lifeforms and whether they perhaps are much more complex than is assumed.

I have noticed that I mention my husband in almost every post and I assure you that is unintentional. I guess he is always on my mind and that will ultimately show in my writing. Sometimes it dawns on me, that I am indeed married. We got married only a week before he left and thus the event first now settles into my perception as reality - yet the sheer excitement of the fact still sends shivers down my spine.
I love being married.
I miss him terribly, at times every cell in my being longs to hold him... There are moments when I think that I simply can not go on one more second without feeling his touch and I fall into a temporary depression. But then a new day dawns and I get up from the ground, brush myself off and get on with life. I am thankful for this experience, no matter how hard it is at times, as it is reshaping me as a human being, building my character, my stamina and my resilience.

I am glad though that I can sense him everywhere in the house. His things, his clothes, his smiling face in the pictures of us - it all makes me feel as if he is about to return at any moment. And yet, now that a month has passed since his departure, the house is changing. I find this very interesting and utterly fascinating. The children are not here with me either, only the occasional visit here and there, thus this house bears more and more an imprint of me. Most of all its scent. Have you ever noticed how every home has its unique scent. I guess it is a scent that defines its occupants and is initiated by the life that flourishes within its walls. Our house has lost the scent I recall, when I visited it for the first time. It has a scent that is no longer a foreign one to me, but a very familiar and comfortable one. The one of my home.

I saw the film An Education the other day. It was a sweet movie, not making the big impression on me that I have hoped, yet I was entertained. Nevertheless, there was a scene that will stay with me for a long time. The female heroine - Jenny - contemplates;   

"Action is character", our English teacher says. I think it means that if we never did anything, we wouldn't be anybody. 

I think this is my life philosophy summarized in the most eloquent way.
Indeed, our actions are the essence of our life. We might not always do the right thing, but remaining standing still in a safe place makes us into nobody.

In my life I  have surely taken the wrong turns more times that I care to admit. Still, it never deterred me from taking action. Considering all the places I have been to and all the unforgettable experiences and encounters I have created along the way, I can safely conclude that perhaps I will never be anybody special - yet I will never be a nobody.

Solitude At Daybreak.

For years, my exercise consisted of a daily morning run on a treadmill located in the basement of my old house. It was easy and it was practical, having my own gym within reach. It also made it harder to have any excuses not to run.

Upon my recent relocation, my old treadmill has been left behind and thus I have adapted a different exercise routine, the one practiced by my new family. A novel concept to me; running outside. Stepping onto a natural ground, finding a rhythm in following the versatile terrain and enjoying (or fighting) the elements.

Thus three times a week, I get up at daybreak and set out on a run through the sleeping neighbourhood, by now on a fairly familiar route, which eventually takes me onto a path around a nearby lake.

I have come to cherish this tranquil time in complete solitude. As I jog along the solitary path, I very rarely meet anyone but the occasional dog walker or elderly couples on their first stroll of the day. As a naturally early riser, I enjoy the stillness of a newborn day, heading outside, inhaling the morning scents and stepping on the dew covered ground. Most of all I love to visit the lake at this hour, when mist still lingers upon its surface and the first sun rays burst from behind the trees.
My morning run has certainly become one of my new found simple pleasures.

(All image in this post are taken with my iPone on a recent run, during a beautiful late August morning.)

Liquid Gold.

At times, I truly miss my westerly views.
Those of magnificent sunsets, that played out like light shows in front of my windows at the white house on the hill.

But as always in life; you gain some and you loose some. Thus having lived at the east coast for a decade, my new home at the west coast offers novel views that take my breath away.

Recently, I got the chance to see the sun set over the rough North Sea, something I have never witness before.
The beaches here are wide and they stretch some hundred miles in each direction, with the sand so tightly packed, that cars are allowed to drive across the wast surface, on a sorts of a "highway". The sea is powerful and the horizon free and unlimited.

The skies were cloudy on that particular evening, yet that did not deter at all from the allure of the experience - on the contrary, it only reinforced the pristine enchantment of this rugged, unprotected west coast, known for its strong undercurrents and magnificent surf.

I watched the sun move lower to meet the surface of the waters, as my entire being savored the romantic moment, in the warm and loving arms of a perfect man.
While we gazed in silence at the smoky boundaries, the heavens above slowly shifted colour, anything from light blue and anthracite grey into deep purple and red. Eventually the fiery disc turned a strip of the sea into liquid gold, the wild waters embracing the shores, turning so flamboyant in their untamed beauty, instigating so undoubtedly the sense of absolute freedom...

Pure Magenta.

Ever since I was a little girl, my dream has been to live in a small cottage, somewhere in a beautiful countryside.
So far I have to admit to have lived in beautiful places and in beautiful surroundings, but the cottage dream is still only a dream.

I have always loved the romantic images of low, aging, thatched-roofed dwellings with semi-wild gardens, those that give a feeling of abundance and unrestricted growth, hidden from view. And full of hollyhocks.

Called a stokrose in Danish, which translate something like a rose on a stick, these beautiful flowers adorn the outside walls of many farms and cottages up here North, creating a living, colourful hedge. They can be found in many colours, anything from white and yellow to pink, magenta and deep red.

Once again, just like in the spring, when I realized that lilacs bloom in the garden of my new home, this summer a beautiful Hollyhock adorned outer walls of the house - another signs send by the heavens, reassuring me to stay on the path I have taken.
Thus until I one day indeed live in a cottage, this stunning beauty of pure magenta brings that dream somewhat closer.

Time To Live.

As we are about to enter the seventh month, a genuine perception of summer is so very palpable in my surroundings. It is my favorite part of the annual span, as this enigmatic season so effortlessly entices my entire body and soul.

This year it will enter my recollection as a unique period in my life. One that has brought my way a sought after change, fulfilling my dreams and desires upon years of standing still.
It is thus time for me to give into the allure of life when it is at its best.

It is time to live. Fully and unconditionally.

Currently I find myself mostly on the road, sharing my days between my old home and my new home. Therefore I increasingly neglect certain aspects of my reality, blogging being one of them. I love writing my online diary endlessly, yet I find very little opportunity to do so and even less to visit all of you.
To just keep posting and and not returning your lovely visits is not just joyless, but also somewhat unfair. Thus I have decided to take a long blog break - a needed break to savour and focus on the off line world for a while.

I hope you will not forget about me, as I surely will not forget any of you. I intend to return once the last rich summer month is closing towards its end, bringing with it the shift of seasons, with writing saturated by new experiences full of sweet contemplations and poignant reflections.

Have a wonderful summer everyone - see you soon.

Xoxo
Zuzana

Enchanted Evening Sky.

I have stated numerous times in the past how much I love the month of June. I love this month due so many reasons.
I relish in its youth - as it is the first month of the summer.
I relish in its bloom - as it is the month when all my fragrant shrubs and bushes bloom.
And most of all - I relish in its light - as it it is the month of white nights and the summer solstice.

I am summer child and as such I am vivacious and full of life and passion. I also hold a certain sensitivity to natural wonders and thus I will forever stand mesmerized when watching the evening heavens in the sixth month of the year, the annual midpoint.

This year, the longest day of the solstice offered spectacular skies, which came across as endlessly enchanting, almost divine or biblical, full of dramatic thunderheads with shooting sun-ray beams, painting my westerly view in cool azure blue mixed with platinum white and anthracite grey, adding a hint of warm orange.

Trying to eternalize the evening skies with my camera, I was overwhelmed by a plethora of sentimental emotions. Prevailingly a certain soft sadness, bordering on gentle melancholy, as I became aware of one unmistakable fact - once again the threshold of light has been crossed...

Fragrant Neglect.

These days I spend somewhat limited time in my white house on the hill. Instead, almost every weekend I am adding miles to my little Toyota engine, as my faithful car takes me up north to a place that is increasingly becoming my new home.

Thus my terrace and garden are suffering from a certain mild neglect. The patio tiles are surrounded by weed and I have not planted any seasonal flowers since early this spring.

My potted plants are luckily all evergreens and they seem to be nevertheless thriving quiet well and have grown beyond belief. The garden is now displaying the bloom of all my fragrant bushes and shrubs, such as jasmine, caprifolium and a variety of roses.
Despite the lack of my attention, the growth proceeds undisturbed in an uncanny way.

The other morning, as I stepped outside with a cup of coffee, I had to linger there for a while, inhaling the perfumed morning air, saturated by dew and scents of June bloom.
A faint, slightly undetermined feeling encompassed my entire being, a mixture of sweet melancholy and subtle sentimental longing with a hint of excitement. My mind became aware of an approaching finale of a certain personal era, while my consciousness captured mental shots of a moment in time - one that might never ever repeat itself again....

(Please click image for a larger view)

Scented Lilac.

Lilac is one of my favorite blooming shrubs. It holds so much significance in my perception, as its unique scent brings back so many happy memories.

The aroma regresses my childhood and most of all my teenage years, when the bouquet of the purple flowers would saturate the air, signaling the onset of summer - and in its turn, the carefree days of the approaching holidays.

Even today, every time I encounter a lilac shrub in bloom, I have to linger for a while, closing my eyes while I inhale that fresh fragrance of the flowering bunch, making me recollect and reminiscence, defying the laws of time.

Ultimately those brief moments remind me of that one single vital fact - the best in life is indeed free and locked into a few simple pleasures.

In no uncertain terms such was my recent encounter, finding this purple treasure blooming in scented abundance - in the same place where I found true love. Yet another symbol send by the universe, reassuring me that after all the detours and wrong turns I ever took in my past, I am at last traveling on the right path, moving in the right direction...

Accession To Midnight Sun.

In about twenty days, we will reach the enticing Summer Solstice. The time when daylight rules our world and the midnight sun colours the heavens.
Thus the month of May and June comprises my absolute favorite time of the year, one that is defined by light. Additionally, it is signified by almost daily sunsets that take my breath away, combined with stunning views of the evening sky.

I will never ever get tired of my late spring - early summer vistas, as I watch - almost daily - when the fiery disc meets the horizon in a covert kiss, colouring it by plethora of fiery brushstrokes, causing it to blush upon this romantic encounter. As the sun vanishes beneath the dark silhouette of the Earth, the heavens turn slowly orange and then purple. Shortly after midnight they gain the hue of silver blue - however never ebony.
The sun is absent for only a portion of the night, yet its imminent presence can clearly be felt throughout the time of twilight, until it reappears in the small hours of the morning, submerging my world in a rosy sunrise.

This is the culmination of the white nights, a countdown to midnight sun. A time of magic and enchantment here in Scandinavia.
Yet, no matter the culture or location, the sun has been worshiped by humans all across our world for millennia - ever since the primitive man recognized its vital potential.
The allure of the golden star continues to mesmerize us even today and will in the future, despite the progress and technology which rule and explain our reality. Humanity will endlessly maintain a strong urge to hold onto that which is beyond our control and beyond any clarification, that which entices us and keeps us standing back in awe.

(Below a selection of May sunsets and evening/early night skies, as seen from my windows. Please click each image for larger view.)