Woodland Cemetery Stockholm. Late October. I love fall. I love the serenity, solitude and quiet of fall. It doesn’t bow and flatter. It is there. It doesn’t try to bribe you with warmth. It asks something of you to enjoy it fully – nothing for whiners or people reluctant to put on proper clothes and just be in it. Happy you’re here, fall.
forget-me-not
Mother Nature is in her most agreeable mood. Everything is blossoming, or about to burst out in blossoms, and their scent is present everywhere. The sun is above the horizon almost 17.5 hours a day as I write, so hope and spirits are high and bubbling of joy. I remember how hard it was when I was a kid to to be persuaded to go in and to bed these evenings.
Even as a grown-up I find it hard to stop playing and go indoors these warm spring and summer evenings – there is so much more to see; so much more to explore. So many old apple trees to sit under and have a coffee and write; without noticing that the sun goes down and the long dusk starts. A time bursting of joy and hope. And longing. If you haven’t experienced it and want to understand anything of it – listen to Scandinavian folk music. It describes the light, the hope and the bitter sweetness of our short, longing lives.
lady dandelion 