Still grey
I get a lot of comments about how colourful my world is. That’s because I focus on the bright and the colours.
But as you can imagine, we do get a lot of grey days.
Even then, there is beauty in the stillness of the grey;
And in the perfect upside world of reflections.
Bare birches paint abstract pictures in the water;
And the pop of colourful buoys make them look like
Floating sweets.
(The grey almost adds a 3D feeling to the scenes, don’t you think?)
For more pops of colour, please visit: Our World.
The drama of the grey
Novembers past speak of old jetties reaching out
To embrace the drama and gentleness of grey.
For more dramatic skies, please visit: Skywatch.
Upside down bowl
An unseen hand
Turned the bowl of the sky upside down,
Scattering clouds into the water.
(And, of course, it always helps to have a dog in the picture too.)
For more cloudy philosophy, please visit: Skywatch.
With ears flapping
Spring is due here any moment…
I can tell by the grey days we’re having
When branches drip
With rainy pearls,
And catkins
Revel in melting snow.
The little yellow suns of the crocus
Patiently wait for some sun
As do we.
In the meantime, I enjoy the orange pop of a boat —
I like how the lines on the boat match
The waves on the lake.
And when another hail or snowstorm rushes in
We meet it with ears flapping
And hair flying – in the hope that spring will soon arrive.
For more dramatic stories, please visit: Our World.
Fifty shades of grey
It’s been very grey here –
So grey that the newspapers are saying
We’ve had fewer than 8 hours of sunshine so far this month.
In fact, it looks as if even the ducks are complaining about the lack of sun!
There are moments of beauty, though,
When the grey and the bird
Look like a silken painting.
For more bright skies, please visit: Skywatch.
Frosted delight
Come and let’s take a walk through my enchanted world.
In the early morning, the freezing temperatures
Create art out of silver beeches
And the hoar-frosted trees frame
The pyramid of the swings at the end of our street.
Once out on the lake, I walk past
An enchanted red boat house
Hiding among frosted branches.
Zooming out with my lens, I see the boat house
Belongs to this summer cottage
Patiently waiting for warmer days.
As for me, I’m enjoying the last cold days
Of magical hoar frost and ice.
For more delights, please visit: Our World.
Shades of grey
You’re not tired of snowy pictures yet, are you?
Good. Because neither am I!
The skies are often grey over here
As they are weighed down by snow clouds.
But that suits my world so full of grey and silver highlights.
Roofs are utterly delicious
As they remain hidden under white frosting
And cats smile under snowy hats.
My favourite view is this lovely grey wooden house
With a wonderful curl of roof icing.
For more lovely greys, please visit: Our World.
Here is my most popular post ever – about the beauty of grey.
Grey is the new light
My small slice of the world has been wrapped up in soft grey tissue paper.
And sprinkled now and then with pearls. In this case, the luminous moonstone white of the swans bobbing upside down in search of food.
And just when I think the soft grey clouds are winning, I catch sight of a splash of tinsel, a dab of gold.
We have to embrace the grey too. After all, it is a part of life’s mosaic.
And look – the soft grey pastel tones have a near-magical quality!
What greys will you embrace today?
To see other colourful parts of the world, please visit: That’s My World!
The Fire Tree
November is traditionally a very grey month here in Sweden. The buses are full of morose Swedes, who look depressed and even downright suicidal. People defend themselves with newspapers or burrow themselves into their scarves, no longer capable of delivering a little smile or nod of the head. Frowns and wrinkles abound.
The winter Swede is here to stay until the spring arrives in an explosion of colour and blossom.
The winter Swede is affected by the dwindling hours of sunlight, and becomes fairly anti-social. The streets become deserted, the swings remain silent. Everyone seems to go into hibernation in their cozy little houses where they keep the feelings of sadness at bay with masses of candles and saffron buns. (The summer Swede is the complete opposite.)
The winter Swede complains about the greyness, the rain, and the lack of colour. Which is strange really.
Because there – where you least expect it – is a riot of colour. This tree blazes on the street above ours in glorious orange, burning as bright as a crackling fire.
And in the dripping woods, the moss, the heather and the blueberry bushes are still green.
And surely it is worth keeping a slight smile on your face, because who knows? There, just around the corner, the golden embrace of a tree might be waiting to greet you.
(First picture courtesy of Janne M.)
(Other pictures taken with my mobile phone.)
Who says what?