Sea Of Sunshine.

If I had to define the month of May here in Scandinavia with only one word, it would be raps. That is the Danish word for rapeseed. During mid-spring, their blossoms create oceans of yellow, covering the landscape, contrasting in perfect harmony with the blue of the sky and the green of the forests and fields.

Whenever I have the privilege to take walks in nature when these fields are in bloom, the experience is incredibly revitalizing. The breeze makes the long stalks sway, resembling rippled surface on a sea of sunshine. The golden colour has such a soothing effect on ones well being, as it signifies life and warmth. Additionally, rapebloom carries a deep sweet scent, and the perfumed air completes the experience, satisfying all the senses.
Add a clear, spring sunny day to the mix and the result is the beauty of a natural splendour and a joy of a simple pleasure.

(All images taken with my iPhone in the proximity of my home)

Twelve Down, One Hundred And Fifteen To Go...

It is morning and I sit at our kitchen table. The house is uncomfortably quiet.

Looking at the wall calender on my left I see twelve red crosses drawn over the past twelve days. Twelve odd days have passed since I parted with the love of my life. He is currently thousands of miles away, in a distant, foreign country that I will never visit, making sure its inhabitants can face a better future.

These past twelve days can be summarized as a period of arduous re-adjustment. They have been at times extremely difficult and most of all very, very long. I am slowly forced to accept the fact that I am once again - against my will - alone and I try relentlessly to find some positive aspect of my new reality.

I have good days and I have bad days.

When it is as worst, it feels as if I can not stand this predicament a minute longer and I keep wondering why my fate is once again putting me through such an ordeal.
The first day was by far the most difficult one. After having said good by to my love, watching him disappear from my view, my world suddenly fell apart. I felt alone and abandoned, consumed by anguish, fear and deep sadness.
Even now, the notion of the prolong separation renders me at times emotionally unstable, leaving me with a sense of despair. I can not conquer the emptiness within, nor the state of panic that keeps rising, trying to overcome me.

Yet, as time moves forward, I also have days when all of this seems less dramatic - and they increase in numbers. These days are my beacons of light, illuminating the path in a long dark tunnel through which I am traveling. Brought on by a small simple pleasure or the beauty of natural wonders as they momentarily pass my views and consciousness.
And eventually by my positive thinking, which always disperses the train of unsettling thoughts. But most of all by the reassurance from the man that I love, in form of an endearing word or a kind voice, reminding me that he is still there and he still cares. More than I will ever know. And that he is safe.


Twelve down, one hundred and fifteen to go.
To endure so many more days without seeing his face or feeling his touch comes across as unthinkable.
However, when my sanity returns in those glimpses of light, I realize that I have to allow myself to mourn and to embrace the sadness, the longing and the deep pain, understanding these as something vital and good. It is a proof of deep affection and an intimate connection between two people in love.
Thus, as days move forward, I will slowly regain my bearings and turn this time into something beneficial and prosperous. Already I find gentle consolation in the notion that the countdown has at last begun. Only twelve down, yet twelve less that two weeks back. Time can be our friend and our enemy, yet it is constant and it moves forward bringing an end to everything, whether it is good or bad.

I am a firm believer in the notion that everything happens for a reason. The difficult and trying periods in our life truly have their purpose. They are a time of growth and learning and they bring us forward, saving us from stagnation. Eventually these create a healthy balance in our life, enriching us with beneficial experiences. Human psyche is very strong and we can get used to almost anything - we can always handle more than we think.

Thus even though the temporary separation from my husband is difficult and unbearable, it reinforces our devotion for each other and it makes the days we indeed get to spend together more precious and magical. My heart is saturated with so much love and I hope this love will prevent sadness and fear in gaining hold.

"This too shall pass."
The old saying holds so much significance in my eyes today. And I know in no uncertain terms that if I only endure this trying time, the best is still yet to come.

(Images: photobucket, with exception of the last and first image)

Festival Of Light.

Once again, our evening sky becomes lit up as a silver hue settles across the heavens upon sunset. We commence the time of white nights here in the cold North and the countdown to midnight sun has begun, even though my position is in the southern most Scandinavia, where the midnight sun is used as a symbolical term only.

Still, our day has gained almost nine hours since winter solstice and the time of dusk is now stretched to comprise one hour short of midnight and is only growing. In a month the night will truly be white, or light as we say here.

I love this time of the year and it is now that my heart experiences a bittersweet longing for the views I once had at my disposal at the white house on the hill. Every day, with the onset in May, offered spectacular sunset skies and an endless twilight horizon. Today all I see are treetops and red roofs.
However, that is life - we gain some and we loose some. I have gained on so many other levels, that this is sacrifice I gladly take.

On our recent drive home from one of the Danish islands, after visiting my husbands family, we experience beautiful views of a late sunset as it unraveled over the sea, before we embarked on a ferry to take us home. Later we watched the silver skies accompany us home all the way through to the other side of midnight.
It made me realize that even though I do not get to see the stunning views on regular bases, the few times I get the privilege to see them makes the experience even more precious and enchanting.

"Amor Vincit Omnia".

I return to my online diary after almost two months absence, in the height of spring, at the onset of white nights and a period of growth and renewal.

A diary is a like a time capsule. It captures events, preserves our thoughts and impressions of a given moment, enabling us to relive our history and revisit our past by reading the written lines. As I scroll through my old posts, the changes my reality underwent over the years make me smile. That is the infinite magic of life - we never know what waits around the next bend.

The two rings I wear today are attestation to two defining moments of such changes in my very recent past.
As long as I live I will recall every single detail of the occasions when these two rings were given to me. My memory is saturated by vivid snapshots of these two extraordinary moments in time. Only ten days apart, they account for the two most important events of my life.

The ring worn on my one hand is my engagement ring.
Beautiful silver ring covered by red garnets. This was the ring with which I was asked to marry the love of my life. In front of our families, on a sunny day this April, the proposal was exactly as the incurable romantic within me always imagined - indeed even better. It took place in the beautiful gardens below the Prague castle, saturated by the first spring bloom. High above the historic city, the man that only a year prior stole my heart went down on one knee underneath the pink blossom of a cherry tree, asking for my hand in marriage.

My engagement lasted barely two weeks.
Exactly ten days later, on the first of this May, I said my second yes in the city hall in our home, receiving a beautiful titanium band that now adorns the ring finger of my other hand. I look at it constantly, as it makes me recall our wedding day, which was shared by the two of us only. I loved the simplicity of this precious, deeply intimate moment in time, which eternelized our love.

Ever since I was a little girl, I had visions and dreams of what my wedding day would be like. I think most little girls - and most single women - do. As I grew into a young woman, those dreams started to slowly fade. Not because I did not wanted to get married, but because I started to worry that the man I was searching for did not exist. As years went by and my relationships fell apart one by one, I gave up on my romantic dreams of getting married. I felt like a stupid old fool, still thinking in a young girls terms.

Still, our reality can change in a blink of an eye and as one of the most trying periods of my life was slowly concluding last year, the one that made me doubt happiness and life itself and I wondered secretly whether I was ever going to be smiling again, my fate turned around.
On a warm April day I took a stroll down by the sea with a handsome man - and my life was never going to be the same again.
He came out of nowhere and I knew he was the one. From the very start everything about him was so very different than anything else that I recognized and could relate to. And everything about him was exactly right. He made me believe again.

Thus that which I gave up on a long time ago came to pass. Several decades later than I ever imagined, the event itself though surpassed all my childhood dreams and will remain imprinted in my memory until the end of my days.

Amor Vincit Omnia.
This was written on the back of one of the wedding cards we received.  
Love Conquers All.
And indeed it does. There are no rules and no manuals when it comes to love. There is no right time, right age or right place. Love is versatile and complicated, yet is is also so very unpretentious and easy. It will come to us when we least expected it and it can not be predicted, anticipated, rushed or manipulated. True love is a product of pure mind, endless courage and incurable hope.

It only takes once to get it right. I waited almost half a century to say my yes, yet in hindsight I realize that I would do it all over again. Finding the man of my dreams is worth the wait of a life time.

Dedicated to my husband - my soul-mate and my best friend.

Vernal Sun.

Today's vernal equinox signifies the return of the sun, making our days and nights equal in length. We have crossed the threshold into a new season, which brings changes to our natural surroundings, those that grow in intensity by each new day.

This is the beginning of the time of light here in the twilight north, a time that is cherished and celebrated.

I have been neglecting my writing here terribly. My visits to all of you, dear friends, have been in the last weeks sporadic at the very best, for which I very much apologize. I am running out of time - yes, that precious time I have left with the man I love endlessly, until our temporary but impending separation comes the month of May. My life is currently in the most profound and fulfilling state I can ever recall, thus my attention these days is directed elsewhere and is forcing me (in a welcomed way) to take an extended blog break. 

However, I will return once spring moves into an early summer, ready to share with you some novel reflections on life.

Let me leave you with a collection of photographs depicting the evening journey of the vernal sun, a beautiful celestial show that played out in the heavens during my drive home recently, making each mile enchanted and special.

See you soon dear friends,

xoxo
Zuzana

My Week In Pictures.

Sometimes pictures describe my life better than words.
(please click image to enlarge)

Sammy In Spring.

The vernal prelude has temporarily been interrupted and once again cold air - the icy breath of the Winter Lady - has swept through the country, reminding us that she is still in reign.
Nevertheless, I have thoroughly enjoyed a few days out in the warm sunshine. And may I say, I was not the only one, as seen on the clip below.

Dedicated to all Sammy (aka Batcat) fans.
Enjoy.

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.

Vernal Prelude.

Returning from the mountains of central Europe, the twelve hour drive back took us through two seasons. Leaving the snowy tree tops of fairytale landscape behind, so very saturated by a winter wonderland, we crossed the threshold into early spring upon our return home.

Winter in Scandinavia is certainly on retreat, even though it might still leave us in dust of snow as it gives up its reign.
There is that unmistakable feeling in the air, so difficult to define, yet so very easy to perceive. The sun has gained in strength beyond belief, shining stronger and longer. Finding a spot in our garden, shielded from the westerly winds, I can sit outside for the first time this year, savoring its vital warmth.
Our yard is littered with signs of life and renewal, as the first spring flowers begin to bloom. I find it infinitely exhilarating as I explore the spring vegetation surrounding my home, finding stalks of crocuses and daffodils which I planted last autumn as well as established flowers that has been here for years.

As we enter the third month of the year, we experience a vernal prelude signifying an imminent change of seasons and the beginning of the best time of the year here in the cold North.