The hopeful sun
The sun always speaks to me of hope
And of better days to come.
It reminds me of the last verse of a poem
By Diana Der-Hovanessian.
When your father dies, say the Armenians,
your sun shifts forever.
And you walk in his light.
Thank you for your sympathy and kind comments!
For more sunshine, please visit: Skywatch.
What I learnt from Venice
Tired of all my Venice photos? Good – neither am I!
What I learnt from Venice:
When we give people (or nature) the space and love they need
They can go their own way and create something wonderful.
Going off the beaten path
Leads to new wonders and perspectives.
Handle with love —
A philosophy that makes life more beautiful.
And, sometimes, in the midst of ruins
Treasures can be found.
For more beauty, please visit: Our World.
Advice for living
Oscar’s top three tips for living:
Live as if someone left the gate open;
Make your own joy;
And remember that life is a great adventure.
Follow these tips and you’ll get along swimmingly (literally)…
You’ve got to jump off the cliff all the time and build your wings on the way down. — Ray Bradbury
For more wisdom, please visit: Camera Critters.
The blossoms of life
A couple of weeks ago
I went to see the sakura, or Japanese cherry blossoms, in the centre of Stockholm.
Walking under the trees was like entering a fairytale cave —
And you couldn’t help feeling uplifted and joyous.
The cherry blossoms remind us of life itself:
Of its extreme beauty
And vibrant colour —
And they also remind us that life is fleeting.
So we need to bloom as beautifully as we can
While we can.
For more beauty, please visit: Our World.
Weather metaphors
The weather is a good metaphor for life.
Even in extreme conditions, it’s your point of view that decides whether life is beautiful or not.
Sometimes it helps to explore the thrills of the small things in life: like snowflakes on the handle of a spade.
See how they cling together, giving each other warmth and beauty? How together they can transform the mundane into – dare I say it – something better than themselves.
And even there, when you are out on a limb, you can still dare to veer off your path, to create your own loveliness.
See how those flakes are hanging down, stuck together with nothing but moisture, perseverance, a little faith – and some love.
That’s the miracle of life: each one of us unique, and clinging together to create beauty where we can.
For more stories, please visit: My World.
My street
Nothing – and everything – happens on my street.
Lives are lived out in tears and laughter.
Seasons enjoyed and wondered at.
First hard frost
My street is just that – a street with twenty-one houses flanking both sides.
Some of the houses are right on the lake – but not ours. (Which is probably just as well as I would be glued to the windows with a camera in my hand!)
I can open the door and find myself by the lake in a few seconds flat – ready to document the first snow that arrived only five days after the first hard frost – and which sadly disappeared only a day later.
First snow
If you walked with me by the lake, we might stop to admire the rickety old jetty with its view of the farm on the other side of the water.
We could laugh with joy as we watch the melting snow bouncing on the path to create rainbows.
And, if we’re really lucky, we could catch those magical snowflakes and appreciate the beauty of our seemingly mundane lives.
For more magic, please visit: My World. (And remember to click each photo to enlarge it.)
Hope is the thing with feathers
I caught this bird basking on the golden branches of a tree and it struck me
How large the bird was, and how slender and fragile the branches.
Sometimes, life feels like that: the heavy weight of a burden
Sitting on the fragile tree of life.
You don’t think you can support the weight. But you do.
Because just like that lovely tree, we are stronger than we realize.
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune–without the words,
And never stops at all.
— Emily Dickinson
For more stories, please visit: Camera Critters.
Postcard from England
Weather is here.
Wish you were nice.
Still on holiday in southern England — enjoying the rolling hills of the Sussex countryside and the pebble beaches of the coast.
Back after the weekend.
Many thanks for visiting me. And once again, sorry that I can’t pop in to visit you!
May the sun always shine
As the mercury rises and peaks at over 33 C here, in a country more used to cool temperatures, I am returning to England (where I come from) to enjoy time with my family.
The anklebiters and I will have adventures with parents, grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunties.
It’s been too long.
I won’t be able to visit your blogs for the next two weeks, but will have some posts going up here in case you pop by.
In the meantime, may kind breezes fill your sails,
May the sun shine warmly on your face
And may you dance among the stars.
Song, dance, life!
We spent two nights away last weekend as my birthday present to Sir Pe. Where? Out near the archipelago south of Stockholm at an African song and dance camp.
We slept in some rather hard bunk beds, but the pretty view (from our bedroom window) over the summer meadows made up for the stiffness in our limbs. And the anklebiters were in heaven spending two nights on the dizzying heights of the top bunk!
There was beautiful song, new friends and old were enjoyed, food was served and the washing up done for us – and, of course, there was lots of rhythm and groove and dancing.
The dance was strenuous but so full of joy. And it came naturally…
Stick out your bottom.
Jiggle jiggle.
(But in my case, no extra effort needed to get the jiggle effect.)
Who says what?