something more

LunaMoth800wide
luna moth by Ryan Hagerty, West Virginia

All her life she had believed in something more, in the mystery that shape-shifted at the edge of her senses. It was the flutter of moth wings on glass and the promise of river nymphs in the dappled creek beds. It was the smell of oak trees on the summer evening she fell in love, and the way dawn threw itself across the cow pond and turned the water to light.
~ Eowyn Ivey
(The Snow Child)

stillness becoming alive

ane.lisbet.norway.2015.800wide
“Glorious Illumination” by Ane Lisbet Smedås

Was it light?
Was it light within?
Was it light within light?
Stillness becoming alive,
Yet still?
~ Theodore Roethke
(The Quiet Room)

1.22.16.katie600
Katie got a little bit of snow…

So… We finally got a snowstorm on Saturday, seven inches of snow here. Washington, DC and New York City got much more snow than we did. Record breaking amounts, in fact.

After eleven days of misery it was determined that I had a particularly nasty virus and that it wasn’t necessarily food-borne. I could have caught it the same way one catches a cold or the flu. Sobering thought.

I did not recover in time to go to North Carolina. Very disappointed, but we were given credit from our cancelled flight to apply to a new flight. Thank you so much, Jet Blue.

Yesterday I was dazzled by a photo my Norwegian friend Ane Lisbet posted on Facebook. It was from a walk she took in the afternoon, and I’m grateful she gave me permission to use it here. 🙂 The light is returning to Norway and my longing to go back there in a different season is getting stronger.

1.24.16.dima.katie800
1.24.16 ~ Dima and Katie

I hope we can schedule a new trip to see Katie and her parents very soon!

winter solstice

CarlLarsson.yard.washhouse
“The Yard and Wash-House” by Carl Larsson

Lift up your countenance! The sun’s growing higher.
The light’s pitching camp on free mountain tops.
That hope you conceived
on the winter solstice
stands like a new day’s dawning
in your eyes
shining forth.
~ Einar Skjæraasen
(Seasons)

Race Point

10.10.15.0729
Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

One evening on our Cape Cod trip we went to Race Point Beach in Provincetown to see the sunset. It felt so good to be outside in the salty air, walking on the sand.

10.10.15.0731
Tim at Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts
10.10.15.0743
Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts
10.10.15.0744
Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts
10.10.15.0761
after sunset at Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

I will never forget this trip to Cape Cod with my dearly loved husband of 40+ years. Until 2008 we used to come here all the time – summer vacations and weekend getaways. Sadly, Tim’s grandparents’ house in Provincetown was sold that year and my grandparents’ house in Dennis Port was sold in 2009. Our last trip, to bury my father’s ashes in October 2013, was all too brief.

10.10.15.0789
Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

We did, however, go to Provincetown in May 2009 to celebrate our anniversary and stayed at a bed and breakfast called The Black Pearl. It’s no longer there, we discovered, the house now owned by someone else. We took a long walk on Beech Forest Trail. Six long years since that visit. The town and the seashore have changed. So have we. But we still found healing there, and peace. I think it will always be a place where we will free to be ourselves in times of transition. It will always feel like home.

10.10.15.0791
Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth,
it can lie down like silk breathing
or toss havoc shoreward; it can give

gifts or withhold all; it can rise, ebb, froth
like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can
sweet-talk entirely. As I can too,

and so, no doubt, can you, and you.

~ Mary Oliver
(A Thousand Mornings)

10.10.15.0803
Race Point Beach ~ 10.10.15 ~ Provincetown, Massachusetts

slipping into the sea

10.12.15.1111
before sunrise from our balcony ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

An incurable early bird, on the last morning of our little weekend getaway I found myself unable to sleep and so decided to get up and read and gaze out of the sliding glass doors of our room at the Sea Shell Motel in Dennis Port on Cape Cod. It was about 40 minutes before sunrise and there was an intense yellow orange glow on the horizon.

10.12.15.1116
walking over the dune ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

As sunrise approached I decided to bundle up in my coat and my new Norwegian wool hat with ear flaps and walk down to the windy beach to take some pictures and enjoy some early morning solitude. It was the best moment of the day.

10.12.15.1119
sunrise on the beach ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

Thoughts turned to beloved grandparents who lived in Dennis Port, just up the street. When I was little we stayed with them at their house but sometime in the late 1980s, when my own children were little, my grandmother’s health problems became such that staying in a motel nearby became necessary. There’s no way to count the times we have stayed at the Sea Shell in the past 30 years or so. Each room is unique and charming, well-worn but clean and comfortable. No frills, just a short wooden walkway over the dune to the beach, the sounds of waves breaking close by.

10.12.15.1123
the sun keeps rising ~ 10.12.15 ~ Dennis Port, Massachusetts

I wanted to come here for old times’ sake. So often on this recent trip nature would vividly illustrate the simple truth that nothing is solid in the boundless flow of time and place, there is nothing to grasp. It was here that my grandparents embraced me with abiding wisdom and persisting love. But now they are long gone, even though I feel their presence still. The waves break on the sand and disappear and yet are still there, like the voices of my small curious children. Cape Cod is slipping into the sea.

scattering abroad

9.15.13.9164a
corn maze ~ 9.15.13
Buttonwood Farm, Griswold, Connecticut

For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad.
~ Edwin Way Teale
(Autumn Across America)

A light wind swept over the corn, and all nature laughed in the sunshine.
~ Anne Brontë
(The Tenant of Wildfell Hall)

Hardangerfjord

5.25.15.8519

On this day we woke up in Bergen, rented a car, and made our way out of the city to Hardangerfjord. We spent most of this day driving the length of the fjord (179 km or 111 miles) and enjoying the scenery, making a couple of stops. The first thing we spotted was this tiny island with a little building sitting on it. It was so picturesque we looked for a spot to pull over so we could take pictures of it. As we were waiting to cross the highway we heard shrieks of delight and turned to see two girls coming down the side road on a bicycle. I got this picture (above) as they were turning around and getting ready to head back up the hill. They were gone as quickly as they appeared!

5.25.15.8521

So then we walked across the highway and took lots of pictures of the little island, wishing we could somehow see the other side of it! It might be a boathouse?

5.25.15.8523

Dawn-awakening coves, hammer-blows
of light against the sky and out there
in the fjord mouth, birdsong, clamorous, crescendo
as from a works yard,
the strident assembly of a brand new day,
a sun will soon be ready for launching!
~ Stein Mehren
(Early)

5.25.15.8529

This pretty scene (below) was also to be appreciated – I love how the mountains were reflected in the fjord.

5.25.15.8538

Next stop: Steindalsfossen Waterfall

Flåm

5.24.15.7752

Morning light in Flåm, Norway, looking off the balcony of our hotel room. (above) Morning is my favorite time of day and this particular morning we did not have to rush off to catch a train or a ferry or a bus so we could enjoy a a few leisurely hours in the village before our next adventure.

5.24.15.7755
good morning! ~ friendly little curious female house sparrow
5.24.15.7767
later on we would cross this bridge on a bus
to get to a long tunnel to Gudvangen
5.24.15.7772
it didn’t take me long to find a few gulls
5.24.15.7783
5.24.15.7796
entrance to Ægir Brewery & Pub,
where we had dinner the night before
5.24.15.7800
wood carvings in a dead tree near our hotel
5.24.15.7804
5.24.15.7806
5.24.15.7808
so many lovely birch trees
5.24.15.7810
Ægir Brewery & Pub ~ it’s only open for dinner
5.24.15.7812
Flåmsbrygga Hotel, the warmth of knotty pine floors and doors
5.24.15.7813
Ægir Brewery, sign above entrance
5.24.15.7815
Tim on a little stone seat sticking out of the wall
of the Flåmstova Restaurant
5.24.15.7819
wall in the Flåmstova Restaurant, where we had breakfast
5.24.15.7821
ceiling in the Flåmstova Restaurant
5.24.15.7824

While we were eating breakfast by a picture window, enjoying the view of garden, fjord and mountain, a cruise ship very slowly pulled into port! Then we could barely see the mountain over the top of it! Cruise ships are amazingly large – Flåm was such a tiny port I am sure it couldn’t possibly accommodate more than one of them at a time.

5.24.15.7838
I still can’t get over how it was spring on the fjord
and winter in the mountains
5.24.15.7853
there was a hiking path up through the farms
hugging the side of the mountain
5.24.15.7859
wish we had time to hike up there,
but the zoom lens came in handy to capture this scene
5.24.15.7843

We boarded a small bus to take us through the mountains to Gudvangen. This is the entrance to Flenja Tunnel (above) which is 5,053m long. (16,578′). We came out of it for only 500m (1,640′) before entering Gudvanga Tunnel, which is 11,428m (7.1 mi) long, Norway’s second longest road tunnel.

Next stop: Ferry ride on Nærøyfjord from Gudvangen back to Flåm.