I am very grateful that this was my fourth time in Beijing – the weather made the Great Wall almost invisible. The autumn colours – that’s what I had been waiting for, and they were there…somewhere in the fog and drizzle.

My last visit was an early morning some years ago, and the Great Wall emerged in all its splendour in the morning haze.

…this time

the most colourful things were all the umbrellas. It takes some imagination to see the colourful surroundings here, but on our way down, the fog decided to reveal some of its secrets.

A small glimpse of jewellery …

…before settling again.

This drizzle followed us and haunted us for many days – but I found other things than landscapes to shoot…and the one day on the Yangtse River with the most spectacular views…the sun came through. And not a wind.

CFFC: Graffiti & Murals

16 oktober, 201516 oktober, 2015 / Leya / 21 kommentarer

If you are a skilled artist – you are really good. In Malmoe yesterday I found these.

For more graffiti, click here.

These two, the blue and the red one, are painted on the same house in Malmoe – One long side in red tones, the other one in blue. These two details caught my eye. The frog – look at his eye! The bird I adore as well.

Thursday Thoughts

16 oktober, 201516 oktober, 2015 / Leya / 19 kommentarer

Thinking. Coming back again from Riga, Latvia, and a trip back in time. To my childhood and my cats.

How I loved them…and most of all Måns. Måns was my favourite… and only Mine. He was shocking black, and he lived a short summer at my grandmother’s.

This is not my grandmother’s house…but it could have been…

This is not my grandmother, sitting outside her house, waiting for me…but in my dreams, she still is.

Her cat, Rose (Rosa in Swedish), was rather wild – but I didn’t realise that. I always felt sorry for her…having to stay outside and never coming indoors for some warmth and cuddling. So, one day I let her in.

I should never have done that…I should have listened to my grandmother’s words. Rose went totally wild and scared when let inside. Of course I had closed the door – didn’t want her to disappear out again. But she was in shock and fiercely climbing the curtains, scratching and screaming…

My grandmother came inside and let her out. She never said a word about it…because she knew my heart. This chaos was punishment enough…and I was so ashamed…

Strange, how faded memories come back to you, when triggered by something you somehow recognize or remember. A house, an atmosphere, a tune, a voice, a word, a place…a cat.

And suddenly those old memories seem crystal clear again. They are just lingering there, in the shadowy, hidden corners of your mind…waiting.

And isn’t that just wonderful.

Måns? He disappeared the same day my school started again after that summer vacation. Grandmother told me. He had followed my steps, down the road and away to school. Never to be seen again.

He was charcoal black.