Dangerous Beauties.

I love my work. I am involved in research and am part of a scientific lab. I guess what I find very exciting about my carrier field is that it deals with nature. I take part in investigating the biology of not just the human body, but also the physiology of animals and plants.

Recently, our lab made an excursion to a plantation, positioned within a green house, which grows plants. But not just any plants. These are the plants of a somewhat dangerous kind, the so called Carnivorous plants ("meat-eating" plants).
Not to worry, they are harmless to us, but pose a certain danger to insects. This type of plants include about 630 species that attract and trap their prey, produce digestive enzymes, and absorb the resulting available nutrients.

Despite their somewhat unusual way of living, I find these utterly fascinating. And the place we visited was amazing as well. Square meters of large spaces, humid air scented with soil and shelves filled with nothing but small pots, as long as eye could see. All arranged in a perfect manner, containing unusual forms of life. Some had developed a form of clasping hands (so called Venus Flytrap) with spikes, effectively trapping the insect inside. Some had long sticky leaves containing a certain syrupy glue to hold onto their prey or even pitcher like leaves, posing a danger to anything that wanders within.

Nature is to me a constant source of wonder and awe. Visiting this green house only underlined this notion.

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 Deep Freeze.

Parts of Europe are experiencing the coldest winter on record. Scandinavia is no exception. We are officially having an ice-winter, meaning some of our bays, harbors and inlets are frozen over, for the first time in fifteen years.

For the past week, the temperatures have stayed below zero in the days and we entered deep freeze in the nights. The air is very dry and bitterly cold, too cold for comfort. This is the time when breathing becomes uncomfortable and no amounts of clothes can keep us warm enough.

Having been under a heavy blanket of snow now for almost four weeks, nature is effected as well. Birds are suffering and some plants too. Particularly my evergreens look so poor. The leaves of my rhododendron have shrivelled beyond belief, folding into themselves, they have turned into long tread like forms, making the bush look very sad.
My terrace is a very different place, then the one I recall from the long, warm days of summer. That beautiful season is still very far away and can only be revisited in pictures.
However, despite the freezing subzero temperatures, as soon as the fragile sun envelopes my surroundings the way it it does today, I can not help but marvel over the beauty of winter, when it is at its best.

(Please click the images below to enlarge).

Flashback Friday: "Marco Polo".

I love classical music. There is nothing more enticing than hearing the works of the great masters, preferably in grand theaters and concert halls. Yet, even listening to the undying harmonies in my own home, when the house is still and the day is approaching dusk, holds an allure at any season.
In the nineties, when I experienced lack of inspiration from the modern music, I went on exploration in the old classics. By sheer coincident, I stumbled upon an absolute gem.

Rondò Veneziano is an Italian chamber orchestra. The performers are renowned for wearing a period attire and playing original instruments in their numerous live shows. The compositions, although created with the elements of classical pieces mostly from the Baroque period, contain incorporation of modern rock-style rhythm sections.

Active for almost three decades, Rondò Veneziano have with a sense of style and taste delivered classical music in a modern manner. Even though nothing can replace the sound of the originals, their fusion of classical and contemporary music is superb.

The "Marco Polo" single below is taken from album of the same name. I remember the feeling of discovery, when I played it for the first time.
Quality never fades.

"Angélique, Marquise des Anges".

When I was a child, growing up in the former East Bloc, the Czech and Slovak cinematography was the prevailing one in both cinemas and television. However, the broadcasting did embrace the occasional French or Italian movies.
One of the most romantic and extremely sensual series included five films based on thirteen books written by the French novelist duo Anne and Serge Golon.

These depicted the adventures of Angélique de Sance de Monteloup and the affection between her and the gallant, intelligent and charming Joffrey Comte de Peyrac. A love story of the most extreme romantic kind, the movies are a continuous display of passion and chivalry, one that is long gone from the cinematography of today and would most likely be viewed as ridiculous, naïve and perhaps too flamboyant to be taken seriously as well. Which is a shame.

The plot of the first book (and movie) in brief is one of the tragic kind, as any true love story really is.
Angélique, child of an impoverished country nobleman, finds herself betrothed to the rich count, Joffrey de Peyrac, 12 years her senior. He is lame, scarred and reputed to be a wizard. Angélique reluctantly agrees to the match but in time discovers the talents and virtues of her remarkable husband: scientist, musician, philosopher; and to her surprise falls passionately in love with him.
Tragically, Joffrey's unusual way of life causes his arrest and charged with sorcery he is to be burned at the stake. Angélique, despite trying to save Joffrey, alone and desperate, plunges into the darkness of the Paris underworld...

I was way to young to watch or understand the movies and I never read the books. But I remember they were very popular, and when the series were re-send on television in the seventies, I used to watch them with my parents. To this day the images stayed with me in the dusty corners of my memory, somewhat forgotten, until they recently resurfaced, when brought back by a sheer coincidence. I love this kind of serendipity and I am always left with a sense of wonder when it occurs. Often left pondering the fact of how many beautiful moments of the past we carry with us, those often forgotten, stored away in the attic of our mind. Stumbling upon them it is like finding a long lost friend or discovering a treasure, making us aware of the relativity of time.

Below a series of scenes from the first movie accompanied by the famous soundtrack. It was made in 1964, entitled Angélique, Marquise des Anges (Angélique, the Marquise of the Angels), featuring the beautiful Michele Mercier and handsome Robert Hossein.
They just do not portray romance this way anymore...

A Celestial Event.

With todays celebration of Epiphany (from Koine Greek ἐπιφάνεια, meaning "appearance", "manifestation"), the Christmas is officially concluding. This day commemorates the visitation of the Biblical Magi to the child Jesus.
In my culture, the 6th of January is called The day of the Three Kings and I recall that it meant the absolute end to the joyful Holiday time and a return to the routines of daily life.

All of us are familiar with the story of The Three Magi (Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar), carrying gifts (gold, frankincense, and myrrh) and following the Bethlehem Star, which finally lead The Kings to the infant.
I am intrigued by this tale. The spiritual me rejoices in this event; the scientific me likes to look back in history, searching for facts that would depict it in the heavens, those two thousand years ago.

Was there really a star, or a glowing, moving object in the skies around the birth of Christ?

I am not the only one asking this question. For centuries, the answers have been proposed by theologians, historians, astronomers and laymen.
The primary reference for the Star of Bethlehem is in the Gospel of Matthew, which was probably written around 80 A.D or slightly later. In modern times, astronomers have offered various explanations for the star. A nova, a planet, a comet, an occultation, and a conjunction have all been suggested.
In 1614, German astronomer Johannes Kepler determined that a series of three conjunctions of the planets Jupiter and Saturn occurred in the year 7 B.C; the nights sky of that event can be seen here.
Halley's Comet was visible in 12 B.C and another object, possibly a comet or nova, was seen by Chinese and Korean stargazers in about 5 B.C. A recent hypothesis states that the star of Bethlehem was a supernova or hypernova occurring in the nearby Andromeda Galaxy.

Of course, to those of faith, the Star Of Bethlehem is a magical event, that needs no explanation nor have to be supported by any facts. The magi seem to have been the only ones who saw the star— this further supports the notion that the star of Bethlehem was a supernatural manifestation from God rather than a common star, which would have been visible to all.

After searching for the facts myself, I eventually realized that facts matter very little in this subject. What matters is what we believe. Sometimes a belief is the ultimate proof.
After all; "There where science ends, faith begins."

Lunar Eclipse.

I can never get tired of looking at the moon. It mesmerizes me always and it leaves me feeling enchanted every time.
The moon is full thirteen times a year and there is something inevitably feminine about its cycle. Mysterious and enigmatic, so close, yet so out of reach, never the same.

I have described numerous times that I can see the silver disc out of the roof top window above my bed, drifting to sleep under its cool glow, when the nights are clear and the conditions right. I wish I could see it as often as thirteen times a year, but that is rarely the case. The Scandinavian night skies are often cloudy and the view of the moon is scarce.
Intriguingly enough, the last full moon of the year fell on New Years Night. As luck has it, that night was as beautiful, as during the last full Moon in the same month. Clear and bitterly cold, with snow on the ground and the skies absolutely pristine.
Everything seemed magical and fairytale like and the old year departed with an uncanny grace. And even more fascinating is the fact that there was a partial eclipse, that could be seen starting early in the evening and lasting about an hour. I am forever fascinated by these celestial events and the fact that they occur on the last night of the year adds obviously incredibly to the mystique of this natural satellite of the Earth.

The only regret I have at all times is a not having a better zoom on my camera, as the pictures here are nowhere near the incredible sights I had out of my windows last Thursday.

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.

Back With A Tag.

And a few awards.
Hello and a Happy 2010 everyone, it is great to be back! I trust you all had lovely Holidays. I have enjoyed my short, but very needed break. Staying pretty much completely off line for a week, it was beneficial for my mind and soul.

I had a wonderful white(!) Christmas and a very laid back New Year. The weather has been bitterly cold and it is snowing as I write this. In the news they talk about a possible "ice-winter", the first one in about fifteen years. This means that inlets and bays of the North sea will freeze. An event that happens very rarely, as it takes prolong subzero temperatures to cause saltwater to turn into ice.

I have decided to ease back into my writing by acknowledging a few awards I have received recently and less recently. I have been feeling guilty about not doing so for a while, but I want all the award givers to know that I always appreciate every single award I get; and I keep being amazed and extremely flattered that these are being bestowed upon me.

The first one was given to me by the talented Doreen. It is entitled Best Blog Award and is given to blogs that are "visually stunning, memorable, educational, and funny". I feel very honoured that I should fall under this category - thank you so much Doreen.

The second one was passed on to me by the very lovely Susan. It is apparently originally a nameless award, but Susan decided to call it Gratitude Expressing Award. Thank you dear friend, I am very thankful for this attention.

The last one was given to me by my friend and a talented artist Stevie; thank you dear, you know this means the world to me.

The last two awards both came with the same tag; I am suppose to reveal Seven Things You May Or May Not Know About Me. I am not sure there is anything left to disclose that you might not know about me (or that is of any interest). I have done similar tags before, such as here, here and here and am kind of running out of things to say about myself, but I am giving it yet another try:

1) When I was a child I fell on my chin and needed to have it stitched. So I have a scar just below my chin; I think this is one of the most common injuries in small kids.

2) I carry my passport with me at all times. It is a strange habit, I guess revealing the more adventurous me; ready to travel at any given moment.

3) I am a collector. I collect stuff. It is not critical yet, but my basement is filled with boxes of stuff. Some I have not opened for years. But as a hobby, as a child I collected stamps, chewing gum wrappings and napkins. I think my collections are still somewhere in some of the boxes.

4) I once went on a two weeks vacation to Cyprus on my own. I was 22. It was "a last minute trip", meaning I did not know where I was staying until actually after my arrival. As luck had it, I was assigned to a first class resort, with my own apartment, sea view and private beach. I met tons of people and had a blast. I never traveled alone again though and would never do that today. Sometimes I miss the braveness of youth.

5) When I was about five years old I saved a kid that was drowning at the shore of the Black Sea. He was a son of my parents friends and our families were at that time vacationing in Romania. This happened as we played on the beach at the shore line, and he kept being hit by waves, unable to come up for air. I grabbed the boy by his hair and screamed my lungs out for help. His name was Tom. I wonder if he recalls this and what he is doing now.

6) I have reoccurring dreams. They have varied over the years, but most of my reoccurring dreams are unsettling. Not directly nightmares, but not directly pleasant either. My latest dream is about a basement in a house, that is apparently mine, but that I do not recognize. A basement that has been locked for years and that I do not dare to enter. Hmm.

7) I believe that Saint Francis of Assisi adequately summarized the art of how to live in this one single quote (which is my favourite, together with the one listed in my sidebar):
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."