Science Before Prose Writing.

Or work before pleasure.
Yesterday was such a grey, rainy, dark and cold Sunday. Indeed, it instigated a feel of December rather than May. In some way I did not mind as I was preoccupied with work. Instead of my usual blog writing and doing research for upcoming posts, I spend it on putting final touches to a scientific paper.

I enjoy writing research papers and particularly this one, as we are presenting something novel and intriguing to the world. Results like these are what makes science so very exciting and rewarding.
Therefore I have been a slacker when it comes to blogging and have been absent from your lovely places; thus forgive me if this week my visits as well as my writing here will be sporadic at the best. I simply have a deadline to meet.

I decided though to post my traditional Birch Tree update. As a very cold May ends, the tree and its surroundings are growing greener and summery. Even though as we stand on the threshold of another seasonal change, parting with spring is easy. It somehow feels as if it never really arrived this year at all...

Late Spring.

The title above invokes the feeling of an imminent seasonal change, but that is far from the case here, even though Mr. Summer sure did pay us a visit last weekend.

As the coldest May in 14 years, this last month of spring departs leaving us with bitterly cold wind, cloudy skies and temperatures resembling more those common in November. I am considering going back inside even though I am defying the weather gods, shivering while sitting on my patio, risking a case of severe pneumonia. The forecast though called for sun and thus I am in a certain disbelieve and left hoping that sun will eventually appear.

The fast moving clouds of various colours and texture do add a certain dramatic feel to the country side that surrounds me. In any room in my house, anywhere I look, I see beautiful views of landscape that from within the warmth of my home indeed do instigate the feel of late spring after all.

Flashback Friday: "Angel Si Ti".

Considering this is the Eurovision Song Contest week, I am going to make an exception with today's Flashback. Today I am not sharing an oldie, but a contemporary tune in the very beautiful and sensual Bulgarian language.

To those of you who are not European, the term Eurovision means nothing. But believe me, this is the only televised event that manages to unite (and divide) Europe like nothing else can. It has grown over the decades to become a massive undertaking, with 39 countries participating. In 2009, the show was watched by some 125 million people.
I have described the contest in details last year, thus I will not bore you with the facts today. Except to point out that once again, after two semifinals, the best songs did not even make it to tomorrows final.

Thus, let me present to you one of my absolute favorite entries this year. It might come across as flamboyant, processed and over the top, but this is exactly what a great pop song should be. It is music that makes us feel good.
The compilation below sounds good and looks good and appeals to all my senses. I enjoy it like a lavish desert. I love the catchy harmonies, that make me want to get up and dance, a sensation I have not felt for a very long time. I love the images and the sentiments and most of all, I simply love the language. To me, who has Slavic roots, the lyrics below (of which I understand some) appear as a combination of Slavic and Latin; a language match made in heaven.

"Angel Si Ti", meaning "You Are An Angel" preformed by Miro (Miroslav Kostadinov) is one of the best songs in this contest. Even though voted out in yesterdays semifinal, it has won my heart.
Well done Bulgaria.

May Nights Revisited.

The long winter and extensively delayed spring has so far caused a lack of joy, which I usually feel during this time of the year. I am trying very hard to reinstall it in my consciousness by reminding myself, that although it feels far from it, the best part of the year is indeed here.

The cold temperatures in May and April, with very few heat waves instigate a sensation of literally no spring. I fail to feel its presence, despite the bloom and the green growth. It is similar to ones dreams and desires - when fought for and awaited for too long, once they come true, they do not bring the satisfaction one has hoped for.

The only time I feel that indeed this is the season of magic is when I look at our night sky. The nights are white and almost absent. Before bedtime, when most of the world is already fast asleep and I open my windows to let in fresh breeze from the west, I can see traces of sunset finales, which colour the heavens in yellow, red and purples. Even at midnight, as the city below comes alight, the sky is not dark and the onset of darkness becomes exponentially delayed by each day. We have now gained ten hours of light since winter solstice in December and are one hour short of the longest day which will occur in about a month.

As seem on the two images below, taken at approximately the same time point, about a week apart, the increase in light is close to impossible to comprehend.


Northwest, 11th of May, 11:00PM


Northwest, 18th of May, 10:55PM

Happiness Is A Warm Loaf.

“With bread and wine you can walk your road.”
Spanish Proverb

There is no word that encompasses more what life is all about in such a versatile way than bread.
Bread is literally what keeps us alive and what we work for, it has been used symbolically throughout history in literature and art, in politics and in speeches, it has deep meaning in religion and importance in prayer and it is ultimately what brings families together at meals. There is nothing that speaks home and security more loudly than the aroma of baked bread.

Bread is one of the oldest prepared foods dating back to the Neolithic era. It is intriguing to ponder how the first bread might have come about; most likely it was a cooked versions of a paste made from roasted and ground cereal grains and water. It could have originated from accidental cooking or deliberate experimentation with water and grain flour. Descendants of this early bread are still commonly made from various grains in many parts of the world, such as the Mexican tortilla, Indian naan and Middle Eastern pita, to mention a few.

Later, again most likely by a chance, spores of yeast could have been introduced into the dough, thus this meant the origins of leavening. Although again dating back to prehistoric times, the earliest evidence of such a bread can be traced back to Egypt. Accounts exist describing Gauls and Iberians to use the foam skimmed from beer to produce "a lighter kind of bread than other peoples."

No other food caries so much meaning in many different cultures, then bread. Every country has their own recipes, their own way of making and preparing it. It holds a deep cultural and historical significance, going back centuries in time. In the country of my origin, Slovakia, offering bread and salt is an old and a very traditional welcome greeting ceremony.

I personally love bread. And I practically live on it. There is always bread in my home and although I am a lousy cook, I have been experimenting with baking bread in the past and have made delicious loafs and roles.
Bread also holds significant memories tied to my childhood. Upon our immigration to Sweden, we could get used to pretty much all the new and unusual food and missed in a way very little from our culinary origins. All except our bread. We missed it to such a degree that my father started to bake bread on weekends and became very proficient in it. Thus through out most of my teens in Sweden, we always had fresh and home-made bread at home.

To this day, the scent of baking signified Sundays to me. The best part of the day was in the late afternoon, when the fresh roles came out of the oven and we children were called to the kitchen for a slice of fresh bread with butter.
The best evening snack I can recall, a simple pleasure and happiness, a sense of security and feeling of home, all locked into such a plain thing as a piece of bread.

Veils Of White.

As gentleman Summer ends his lovely visit, it is time to enjoy all the gifts he has left behind. Aside for giving us a sneak preview of what is perhaps to come in a month or two, it also left our nature in bloom.

I have two bushes that bloom in May. One of them is my pride and joy, my precious Cherry Laurel that lines my front terrace. Damaged severely by winters frost, this spring it is struggling to renew itself and thus has so far produced no flowers.
The other shrub that gives rise to absolutely stunning white veil of flowers are my two kinds of Spiraea. I love these sturdy bushes, with their dark red branches, giving winter a hint of colour and beautiful autumn foliage, with bursts of yellow and red, a stunning addition to the landscape in late fall.
The first Spiraea blooms in May, the second one in June. I always await these flowers with great anticipation, as they signify the imminence of summer days.

As seen on the traditional update of my Birch Tree below, the first Spiraea bloom has began. Likewise, the Birch is now full of fresh new foliage. It has lost all its catkins and is thus ready for the summer season.
Even though these updates could now conclude, I hope you might still enjoy them for a few more Mondays. I'd like to follow the progress in the nature surrounding this magnificent tree a while longer, while we reach the culmination of the green growth in a a couple of weeks, at the onset of the summer season.

(Please click the image to enlarge.)

Prelude To A Love Affair.

Mister Summer came for a brief visit this week. His sudden presence helped putting our fifth month back on track, preventing it from being the coldest May on record.

Indeed, with temperatures colder than in December, the beginning of this last month of spring had put our nature on hold. As much as its progress leaped forward in the end of April, it stopped abruptly once we reached May. Again, we are about four weeks behind and the difference as compared to last year is astounding.

Thus, this brief but vital warm-up seems to have done what it intended to do, as it spurred on the green growth and the sudden bloom. Furthermore, aside from lifting the natural progress, the third season's visit lifted our spirits as well. Sun, blue skies and absence of wind together with presence of warm air - these are the perfect ingredients for a prelude to my favorite time of the year.
The Summer.
Thus it gets to be male in my imagination, as I am involved in an everlasting love affair with this season.

For the first time in ten months, the arrival of gentleman Summer indeed feels yet again imminent.

Flashback Friday: "In The Waiting Line".

Initially I thought the compilation below does not qualify for a Flashback just yet, as it still feels so very modern and new to me. However, realizing it is almost ten years since its release made me again so very aware of the relativity of time...

Thus may I present the "youngest" Flashback here to date, with its wonderfully escapist and ethereal feel.
Perhaps the name of the artist and the song might escape you, however, once you listen to it, it might be perceived as somewhat familiar. It is performed by Zero 7 , a duo based in the United Kingdom, known for using guest vocalists in their work. Their sound has a very pleasant, jazzy, downtempo style to it.

"In The Waiting Line", from the 2001 album Simple Things has been used in numerous soundtracks, among others for the Sex And The City and House series. It has that certain meditative sound, that makes us want to close our eyes and relax...

Have a wonderful, relaxing Friday everyone.

Purple Beauty.

I love any kid of onion like vegetables. Garlic, onions, spring onions. Delicious additions, bursts of taste to that very simple cooking - or non-cooking - that I do in my home.

But my favourite of them all are Chives. Being the smallest species of the onion family, this is a very sturdy and strong plant, which can withstand winter and comes back stronger by each year.

I have one big pot, full of chives in my garden. It survived our extraordinary arctic winter season, even though it was burned beyond recognition by frost, turning into a a bunch of dry weed. As soon as I cut it way down in March, it sprouted with an astounding resilience as the first plant on my patio this spring.
It grows visibly by each day and has by now become luscious and juicy green. Imminently it will bloom with absolutely gorgeous violet flowers, and comes June, it will again attract bumblebees, creating a beautiful spot on my terrace.