The bench beckons to sit and enjoy the precious rays of the sun. Not much warmth is found in them now, as winter is in the air. And in just over a month, the sun will bid us farewell, not returning until the end of January. Warmth or not, I think I will sit awhile.
Sometimes nature gives me a simple reminder to exhale. To breathe out the stress and anxiety of the day, releasing it into the atmosphere.
The mirrored reflections a reminder to let go, and let peace reflect both inward and outward.
It was a beautiful day for an autumn walk, the trees forming a canopy of oranges, golds, reds and rusts. I took photos of the surrounding mountains, the lake and the autumn colors. But that will have to wait, because instead, I found treasures on the waters´ surface.
The glistening reflections of the sun bouncing off the shoreline beckoned me, revealing momentary masterpieces.
Liquid light and shadows in constant motion, creating never-before-seen artwork, one nanosecond at a time.
Marbled works of wonder.
Paintings of dreams.
The ethereal a whisper away.
I’m glad I was beckoned by the dancing light.
And I will take these treasures with me, as I bid farewell to Summer´s end.
“Island View” evokes images of tropical sand beneath my toes, a slight warm breeze blowing off pristine turquoise water, rustling the palm leaves above me. It´s odd, actually, as I’ve lived on the island of Magerøya, Norway´s 11th largest island for 9 years. And we’ve recently moved to the tiny island of Tromsø (approx. 10 km long from north to south). But I still think tropical, not arctic.
The cable car ride is quick, and the views spectacular. (There is also a trail for trekking up the mountain…. stay tuned for a future post!)
The city of Tromsø includes Tromsdalen, Tromsø Island, and the area closest to the bridge on Kvaløya. The population is around 72,000, making it Norway´s 9th largest city. It´s a beautiful area I’m looking foward to exploring.
My current island view: A cool breeze blows off the water, turquoise water highlights the coastline, and the wind rustles the carpet of moss, wild blueberries and lingonberries. Arctic, not tropic.
Divine days: Balsam for the soul.