snow – Page 6 – In the Woods

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!

was it the batter?

"Farm at Montfoucault 2" by Camille Pissarro (1830-1903) French Impressionist & Neo-Impressionist Painter — “Farm at Montfoucault 2” by Camille Pissarro

Still waiting for some snow here in southeastern Connecticut. Still wondering what on earth gave me a very bad case of food poisoning. And wondering if I will be well enough to fly to North Carolina on Sunday as planned…

Waiting for test results to see what mowed me down… I’m guessing, by process of elimination, that it was the pumpkin muffin batter I licked off the spoon or the easy-over eggs I had at the restaurant. Of course I’ve been doing research online.

A post written by a 27-year-old woman proudly asserted that she had been licking the spoon when baking all her life and had never got food poisoning in spite of her mother’s dire warnings. Well, I have, too, for 58 years, and, a word to the wise, I will never ever do it again!!!

Tim and I ate all the same things in the days leading up to my illness, except for licking the batter spoon and except for having scrambled eggs when I had mine over-easy. I will never order over-easy eggs again. Tim did not get sick!

In fact, he’s been taking very good care of me. Laundry, dishes, meals for himself, taking me to the emergency room and then to the gastroenterologist. This is day four and I’m doing much better, still resting and sleeping a lot. The doctor wasn’t sure if I’d be well enough by Sunday to make the much-anticipated trip south to see Katie and her folks. Keeping my fingers crossed!

chickadee, titmouse, junco

Up and away for life! be fleet!-
The frost-king ties my fumbling feet,
Sings in my ears, my hands are stones,
Curdles the blood to the marble bones,
Tugs at the heart-strings, numbs the sense,
And hems in life with narrowing fence.
Well, in this broad bed lie and sleep,-
The punctual stars will vigil keep,-
Embalmed by purifying cold;
The winds shall sing their dead-march old,
The snow is no ignoble shroud,
The moon thy mourner, and the cloud.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
(The Titmouse)

Flåm Railway

After we got off the train at Myrdal, we got onto the Flåm Railway (Flåmsbana), “a steep railway taking you past spectacular waterfalls, in and out of snow-capped mountains and ending up by the Aurlandsfjord.” The little village of Flåm is 2838′ (865m) below Myrdal and the train ride took about an hour.

There was a stop along the ride where we were allowed to get off the train and take pictures of the Kjosfossen Waterfall. Both ends of the train were still part way in the tunnels. Norway seems to be the land of tunnels and waterfalls, and presumably, trolls.

The total fall is 738′ (225m). In the picture below there is a woman in a red dress who came out of nowhere to sing and dance for the passengers. She gives a little perspective about the size of this magnificent waterfall.

5.23.15.7542 — Huldra, an elusive forest spirit from Norse mythology

5.23.15.7555 — back on the train and more scenic glimpses

5.23.15.7595 — yours truly (cold, but having the time of my life!)

5.23.15.7649 — the little farm is in the late afternoon shadow of a nearby mountain

Apparently Norway is home to nine of the world’s 20 highest waterfalls. High or low, we found them cascading out of the mountains everywhere. No matter how many we saw they continued to dazzle us with their allure.

When we arrived in Flåm, we checked in at the Flåmsbrygga Hotel and then had a scrumptious Viking-style dinner at the Ægir Brewery & Pub. It was very late when we headed for bed, yet it was still light out. The picture above was taken from our hotel balcony and was the last breathtaking scene I savored before falling asleep.

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
(A Child’s Garden of Verses)

Bergen Railway

5.23.15.7283 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

On May 23rd we took the Bergen Railway (Bergensbanen) from Oslo (altitude 75′, 23m) to Myrdal (2,844′, 867m). The line crosses the Hardanger Plateau of Norway (Hardangervidda) at 4,058′ (1,237m) above sea level.

5.23.15.7288 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

All these pictures were taken through the window glass from the train. Some by me and some by Tim. The scenery was so utterly breathtaking we took turns trying to capture it on camera and then sitting back to enjoy the panorama for a spell.

5.23.15.7291 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

I was starting to get the feeling I was unprepared for the weather on this trip. Many passengers were bundled up in winter clothing and some got off at various stops carrying their skis. Apparently Norway was also having a late and cold spring.

5.23.15.7296 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

Little did we know that there had been an avalanche the night before which was blocking the track between Myrdal and Bergen. No one was hurt. It didn’t affect us, though, because we were getting off in Myrdal. But I think everyone going to Bergen got off in Myrdal, too, and made the next train ride down to Flåm more crowded than it otherwise might have been.

5.23.15.7302 — wondered if this person lives here year-round or if this is a vacation home
5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7314 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7317 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7327 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7328 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.14.7338 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7347 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7349 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7352 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7374 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7378 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7393 — one of my favorite shots ~ 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7416 — trying to imagine living here ~ 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7418 — turf roofs ~ 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7420 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7430 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7440 — look how deep the snow is on the sides of the plowed road

5.23.15.7449 — there was some amazing snowlight

5.23.15.7453 — snowed in? ~ 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

5.23.15.7474 — 5.23.15 ~ Hardangervidda, Norway

As dreamy as the scenery was, when we got off the train at Myrdal Station it was startlingly COLD!!! Fortunately we didn’t have to wait too long for the next train.

Next stop: Flåm Railway from Myrdal to Flåm.

our children

1880 Capt. Martin E. Thompson House
Dennisport, Massachusetts ~ photo by Larisa Rodgers

Once we meet our children, even for moments, in a place of “I don’t know,” of relinquished authority, we return to the realms of mystery and magic, where real connection becomes alive again.
~ Arjuna Ardagh
(The Translucent Revolution)

Well, it’s official, February was the coldest month on record in Connecticut. And it was the third snowiest, but I suspect it may have set a record for the amount of snow that didn’t melt between storms. I have not seen my garden since January 27. And March came in like a lion, with six inches of snow Sunday overnight into Monday. Incredibly we have more snow due this afternoon and another batch due Thursday… So much talk about the weather these days…

everlasting snow

2.16.15.3319 — 2.16.15 ~ Elm Grove Cemetery, Mystic, Connecticut

Wont somebody bring the light
So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow?
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #222)

below zero

2.16.15.3174 — how gulls hunker down in frigid temperatures
2.16.15 ~ Eastern Point Beach

Oh the snow fell without a break
Buffalo died in the frozen fields you know
Through the coldest winter in almost fourteen years
I couldn’t believe you kept a smile
~ Rod Stewart
♫ (Mandolin Wind) ♫

the rocks where the oystercatchers made their nest last summer... — the rocks where the oystercatchers made their nest last summer

Cabin fever drove us out of our “cabin” yesterday. It was way too bitterly cold and windy to take a walk, so we drove around all morning, had lunch at our favorite restaurant, and then drove around some more. To get some shots I would hop out of the car for a few seconds, but mostly I rolled down the window to shoot. Even with layers the cold was bone-chilling…

First we went down to the beach where a small circle was plowed into the parking lot. The gulls looked miserable – they usually are standing when resting, even in winter, but this was the first time I’ve seen them hunker down like this. Sadly, I’m guessing some of them won’t make it through the winter.

2.16.15.3218 — Beach Pond was frozen over and starkly beautiful

As I write this it is snowing yet again – the sight of it gently falling brings me pleasure but I must confess to struggling with restlessness and lethargy this winter, an odd combination, but there it is…

Over lunch we talked about our plans for Katie’s upcoming weekend visit in March. We’ll take her to see the beach where her mother grew up, and to our favorite restaurant to show her off to the servers there. It’s nice to have things to look forward to, even while savoring the moments here and now.

More pictures will be coming when I get a chance to post again…

one true home

theodorkittelsen.february — “February” by Theodor Kittelsen

This is the most beautiful place on Earth. There are many such places. Every man, every woman, carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the right place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary….
~ Edward Abbey
(Desert Solitaire)