These pictures were taken just now, at half past eleven pm. We’re now at our very brightest, when the sun only dips below the horizon before it starts rising again.
Pics that hubby took of me with his phone. 🙂
It was a windy evening, but very beautiful. 🙂
Sick of sunset cloudscapes yet? 🙂
The calm was deceptive. There was feverish activity beneath the surface, since the air was full of mosquitoes that sometimes dipped into the water and were promptly devoured.
The picturesqueness is killing me.
Gold dust on the lake.
Free as a bird.
Tonight I just had to document the sky. I discovered the spectacle much too late, so I missed most of it, but there were loads of small, golden clouds towering over each other like spangled dollops of clotted cream.
Never mind finding a subject and an angle, I just had to snap away.
And here, suddenly, this pink calm.
If you don’t mind travel sickness, here’s a really shaky video of my walk.
I almost want to apologise for how fake these photos look, but if anything, they’re less intense than reality. Wherever you go, the sun pierces through millions of breaking birch buds, creating tiny explosions of green light. Like chlorophyll stars, fallen to Earth.
Sick of birches yet? 🙂 Here’s a closeup.
And one of a felled tree whose leaves haven’t died yet.
The lower the sun sinks, the more intense the contrast between that neon green and the darkening background.
Or if you half close your eyes, it turns into a yellowish fuzz.
The stream is still overflowing with melted snow.
We ended the evening on our new balcony – where we still don’t have a door, so we have to climb out of a window! But who cares when the view is 360 degrees of hilly forest? A taster:
Hubby is quite contented. 🙂
Yes, I’m branding this a summer’s day, because I wore a dress after nine pm and wasn’t cold!
All the snow has melted and the lake is swollen with water.
It was 25 degrees during the day – too hot to function, but it made for a lovely, sunny evening.
The birches are covered in a light green mist. Soon they will be heavy with leaves that give shade and hide these views.
And so it begins. Slowly unfolding, cautiously reaching for the light.
I wasn’t even going to go for a walk tonight, because I was beyond tired. But I’d promised a colleague to snap a few pictures for her and the light was really pretty, so I forced myself.
And good job I did, because wow. I sometimes have to pinch myself, because this is where I live.
The village is so perfectly nestled into the nooks and crannies of the wooded mountains.
The beauty of puddles.
Some parts of the forest are more photogenic than others. It’s hard to put your finger on, but it’s a combination of moss and the density of trunks.
One of my favourite spots to photograph, and I arrived at just the right moment.
The buds aren’t quite there yet, but they’re trying.
There are still relics from last year, though. Drained and brittle, but still pretty.
Things you don’t notice until you lie on your stomach at the edge of the lake with your elbow in a hole filled with dirty water…
Ten o’clock and goodnight.
A week or two later than usual, May is timidly starting to bud. It’s not warm yet, but the sun is up for longer and the trees are responding. These shots are from our newly built balcony with a fantastic view.