No stars to be seen, no snow, no nothing…I live up north in the darkness, so the twinkling I must search for – in my old vaults and chambers…This Christmas will be my number four, blogging, so here are some memorable twinklings from 2011-2013!
Slow is the theme for Ailsa this week…I guess the photos could speak for themselves!
His strong spirit and character – to never give up on his dreams
His kindness towards everyone – big or small, human or animal
Friends for ever – helping my children grow
Forever patient…not wanting to sit there too long…but if he felt he had to…
Min Mille
Being beautiful
Always on the move – Leading the way…
For more memories, click here
I love seeing things from above, and the first picture is from my neighbourhood, Hovdala. The little toy tractor in the autumn harvest.
Rome and the view of the bridge leading to Castel Angelo.
In an aeroplane the view is of course even more impressive. The Alps make me long for snow this winter.
But, my all time favourite for this theme is of course this photo: https://lagottocattleya.wordpress.com/2013/07/13/weekly-photo-challenge-the-golden-hour/
For more of the theme Above, click here.
First of all I would like to thank you, Cee, for being featured last week! I’m honoured!
This week is a bit more grim…for Joints I cannot stop thinking of my visit to Rome and the Crypt of the Capuchins.
My reaction on entering this ossuary, was at first a bit violent…but after walking the thirty metre long corridor with all niches decorated with human bones and skulls, the hanging lamps made of vertebrae and whole skeletons standing watch – I got used to it and could almost admire the fantastic patterns once made by the monks. I read somewhere that the bones of about 4000 monks were used to build this scenery, starting in the 17th century and finished not until the end of the 19th century.
”What you are now, we once were; what we are now, you shall be.” This is the memento mori written down here, in three languages.
As no one was allowed to take photos, I bought some cards and photographed them instead. This is the Crypt of Skulls.
Belonging could mean many things…For Ailsa, I had to think…
I guess you know by now that I love plants and flowers, trees and – Nature itself. Ferns are some of the very special species on earth and come in many different shapes. I love spring when they peek their curled heads up from solid ground, and I love to see them slowly unfolding their fascinating faces – always hidden in the shadows.
I grow ferns as pot plants to be able to love them through winter as well. And two winters ago I had one of my old dreams come true – I went with my whole family to New Zealand, the land of the silver fern. The koru (Maori for ”loop”) is a spiral shape based on the shape of a new unfurling silver fern frond and symbolizing new life, growth, strength and peace. It is an integral symbol in Maori art, and naturally I bought a koru pendant in jade for myself. I wear it with love, joy and pride. New Zealand will always have a special place in my heart.
So, my son, who works with graphic design, made this picture for me – I hope you will enjoy it as much as I do.
Four different pictures…I could not choose between them for the WPC Dreamy. Walks in the woods and then by the sea this summer. The last picture is one I first thought of throwing away…but my beloved Mille is still running there, in my dreams.
Soon the colours will be here… but I’m sending you some late summer pictures from last weekend. I just have to.
We went back to our summer house for two days to visit an old friend. He now had to sell his house because he is too old and weak to keep it up. No relatives at all to take care of it – or him. This kind man has been here, walking our grounds, and often offering ice creams and his selfmade cakes, ever since I first came here in 1975. He’s seen our children grow up and he’s been more or less an institution here. No summer without Torsten.
This summer he did not show up. We had seen it coming, but no one wants a summer to be the very last one. His sister, Elisabeth, who is old and fragile too, told us he couldn’t manage visitors…he was too ill to leave his bed. We offered him a car ride to come out to us, but no.
And I walked where he used to walk, and I saw the lonely houses and the last, fragile flowers.
I walked by the sea and went to see my other old friends…the dogs and the horses…
Through the woods back home again…in thoughts.
…and then the dragonflies came. We watched them together, Totti and me.
Crouching, keeping their slender bodies close to the warm stones, catching the last warming rays of the setting sun. And their wings shone like golden gems.
When the thin rays no longer could reach us, we passed the gate to go down to the shore, Totti and I. He knows me so well. And I’m so grateful to have known you, Torsten.
Few things feel as inviting to me as this old veranda, these delicate flowers and the two open doors…And this place is no more. Maybe that is why.
Få ställen känner jag som så inbjudande som denna veranda, den skira blomsterprakten och de öppna dörrarna. Och allt detta finns inte mer. Blommorna är borta och så är verandan. Kanske därför känns det så.
Leya 
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