Adventure, Arctic, Everyday life, Indigenous, Landscape, People, Photography, Poems

Winter poem as we enter spring

I like this picture; my hair is frozen and my eyes look bigger than normal 😅👌🏻❄
Somewhere near Målselv.

Poem by Suzanne Bates. I really liked it:

An awesome scene the artist paints, expert and deft his hand.
Brush strokes swift, he draws with ease, a winter wonderland.
Landscape sketched from memory, heavens and land entwine
Rapidly the scene is set, exquisitely divine.

Pine trees reaching tall and proud, like statues standing still.
There is no wind to speak of, more an icy winter chill.
Strong branches dusted with the snow stretch their fingers high
As if welcoming the blanket bequeathed by the darkened sky.

Crisp snowflakes twirl like dancers, pirouetting to and fro,
Waltzing to their silent tune toward the ground below.
Pale moonlight generously showers diamonds all around.
Its treasure glints and sparkles upon the hardened ground.

Snowfall in shades of silver envelops the land below,
Lighting up the darkness with its soothing, gentle glow.
Mellow in its nature, no preference where it lays,
Takes refuge where and when it can, throughout the winter days.

Though bereft of colour is the scene, prevailing grey and white,
Its awe inspiring beauty is apparent day and night.
Who nonchalantly paints this scene, for all on earth to share?
His strokes proficient every time, precise and so aware.
Jack Frost paints wondrous pictures with his palette of frozen dew,
Then stands back when his work is done and proudly admires the view.

Adventure, Art, DIY, Landscape, Photography, Poems, Spirituality

Shooting star

This leaf survived in my bag for 5 weeks, on planes and buses, just a little broken on the edges. I’ve run out of canvases, so I have started painting the things I’ve picked up that I said I would paint ‘one day’ 🍁


“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, there is a rapture on the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more.” 💙💜💚

Art, DIY, Landscape, Poems, Quotes

Northern sky

30 x 20, I think 😄
Close up reindeer.

“The sight filled the northern sky; the immensity of it was scarcely conceivable. As if from Heaven itself, great curtains of delicate light hung and trembled. Pale green and rose-pink, and as transparent as the most fragile fabric, and at the bottom edge a profound and fiery crimson like the fires of Hell, they swung and shimmered loosely with more grace than the most skillful dancer.” 🌌

Photography, Photoshoot, Poems

Veversken Tid

Photo by Irina Bileanschi, 2016 📸 Miss my long hair 🌹

Veversken Tid

Den blonde veversken Tid

sitter i skyggerisset under trærne

med renningen av solstråler

spillende mellom fingrene.

– Jeg vever lys av mørke,

sier veversken Tid,

– og fletter sang av sorg.

Med forvandlingens under i fingertuppene

slår hun livet ditt nennsomt

inn i veven av glemsel.

Og det gjør ikke vondt mer. Din angst

blir lyset i en skjær bjørkelegg

i mainatta, din lengsel

en blomst som vender krona si blygt

for nattens dugg.


– Hans Børli

– Hans Børli
Adventure, Everyday life, Landscape, Photography, Photoshoot, Poems, Spirituality

Polar night

Det kvile ei natt over landet i nord,
Husan e små der kor menneskan bor.
Men tida e travel i karrige kår,
rokken han svive og vevstolen går
Det leve i løa, i naustet og smia
Et lys, et lys, et lys imot mørketida

Snøen ligg tung over frossen jord
ute står mørket om fjell og om fjord
vår herre gir livberging, søtmat og sul
når døgnan sig fram imot advendt og jul
så støpe vi lys midt i hardaste ria
et lys, et lys, et lys imot mørketida

Dagen e borte og natta e stor
men i mørketidslandet skal høres et ord
ei sol som skal snu så det bære mot dag
om folk som skal samles til helg og til lag
på veien mot Betlehem bære Maria
et lys, et lys, et lys imot mørketida

– Trygve Hoff

Foto av Susanne Pedersen 🙏

Landscape, Photography, Poems

Stormy weather

20.mai2018

THE WELL OF GRIEF

Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief,

turning down through its black water
to the place we cannot breathe,

will never know the source from which we drink,
the secret water, cold and clear,

nor find in the darkness glimmering,

the small round coins,
thrown by those who wished for something else.

– Poem by David Whyte

Everyday life, Photography, Poems

Mørketid

 

 

IMG_20171112_122238_367IMG_20171112_122439_026IMG_20171111_161223_434

Bildene er tatt i Spåkenes.

*   *   *

Av og til
må noe vare lenge,
ellers mister vi vel vettet snart,
så fort som allting snurrer rundt med oss.
Store trær er fint
og riktig gamle hus er fint,
men enda bedre –
fjell.

Som ikke flytter seg en tomme
om hele verden enn forandres
(og det må den snart),
så står de der
og står og står
så du har noe å legge pannen inntil,
og kjøle deg
og holde i noe fast.

Jeg trives med fjell.
De lager horisonter
med store hugg i,
som de var smidd av smeder.

 

Utdrag av Rolf Jacobsens dikt ‘Mere fjell’

 

Art, Landscape, Poems

Nord

Se oftere mot nord.
Gå mot vinden, du får rødere kinn.
Finn den ulendte stien. Hold den.
Den er kortere.
Nord er best.
Vinterens flammevirvel,
sommernattens mirakel

Gå mot vinden, klyv berg.
Se mot nord.
Oftere
Det er langt dette landet.
Det meste er nord

Diktet ‘Nord’ av Rolf Jacobsen

 

IMG_9687

IMG_9683

“Nordnorsk sommer”, akryl, 6 x 9 cm