Full Circle

This day completes my one year stay in this country. Is it really a whole year now? Wow, how time flies!  It feels like it wasn’t so long ago. The memory of my arrival is still fresh and vivid in my mind. I can still feel the icy coldness and see the eerie darkness that greeted me that morning when I set foot on this land so far away from home.  I found myself in the thick of a frosty weather that would usher in the coming winter, the first that I would ever experience.  The trees were bare, but not the evergreens. The dead leaves that I trod on were crisp with the frosts that glazed them.  The gloom, the cold and the unknown silence seemed ready to swallow me up, but without success because my excitement and fascination acted like a protective shield for me.

My first day here may not sound like a good beginning.  But in another perspective, it was a good one.  Those days of cold and darkness kept my anticipation of good things to come burning in my heart. My eagerness to discover new things in a world that is quite different from the one I’ve lived all my life intensified each passing day. I knew there would be wonderful things that lay ahead of me and countless surprises that would amaze me.  And yes, as the days passed, then months, then a year, an array of pleasant, novel things paraded one after another.

The marching seasons are the main spectacles that I had been so enthusiastic to watch out for. The absence of four seasons in my country of origin had made me long to actually see what I had only seen vicariously.

First came winter with its all-white glory and sparkling glitters that earned its epithet Winter Wonderland.

Spring followed with the popping up of flowers that I’d only enjoyed watching in my daydreams, flowers that I wrote about without actually seeing them. My dream trees too came alive when their young leaves started to shoot up.

More wonderful flowers bloomed when summer took over, filling the air with different scents that invigorated the senses, and painting the days with a rainbow of colors. Different wildflowers softly carpeted the summer landscapes. The trees also turned into marvels of beauty as their leaves matured and their shapes came out.

Then came autumn with its dazzling tapestry of vibrant colors that captivated the hearts of nature-lovers and inspired photographers and writers.

Now, I’ve seen the complete cycle of the seasons in all their splendor. The sensation of actually seeing them and being a part of them is completely different from just reading about them and looking at them through photos and movies, which I was contented to do before I came here.  It’s far more blissful and magical to be personally immersed in such seasonal changes. I can’t pick which one I love best, because each season has its distinctive loveliness and enchantment that evoke inspiration.

Not surprisingly, throughout the year, I have taken thousands of pictures of diverse things that the seasons have presented. And I usually felt like I couldn't get enough photos  despite the multiple shots in different angles that I had taken.

Within this year too, I have travelled fairly enough, though not so far and wide yet. Just around here in the north. I’m sure there are more wonderful places to visit throughout the country, but it may take more years to reach them considering its geographical size, its length about 3 times that of the Philippines. Factors also include travel budget and the brevity of ideal travel seasons, like summer, which is so short, not enough to go to all the places one wants to visit. So far, I’m satisfied with my first batch of travels.

One of the most enjoyable activities that I had was berry-picking, which I could never do in my homeland.  I finally tried picking blue berries, raspberries, gooseberries, lingon berries, red and black currants, and cloudberries. So exciting!

I tried to eat some of the traditional foods here, like the northern Swedish dish called surströmming , or soured or fermented (Baltic) herring.

The crayfish, which is usually eaten with family festivities.

I had a regular taste of the lingon berry jam, which is usually present in every meal, the mashed Swedish turnip, the kroppkakor or potato dumplings, the Swedish meatballs, etc. 

In another angle, I  feel a sense of self-satisfaction that comes from being able to keep a simple life despite the material affluence that is prevalent around here, and for this, I have maintained the joy that has always been in my heart. I also have the confidence that I haven’t lived my life in vain as I keep on serving my Creator as best I could.

One remarkable leap, too, is that my hubby has been healed dramatically from the sickly and depression-stricken person that he used to be in the Philippines to a happy and energetic one that he is now. I also gained some new friends in replacement to those that I’ve lost back where I came from, though not as close and familiar as the ones I had back home, not yet. It also contributed to my peace of mind to know that my family that I’ve left had fared well and had survived another year of the usual crises that afflict most Filipinos.

So now I can say that my first year in this country has been a blessed one.  This became the first chapter of my life in another country, which I call my other galaxy. I will make each year a chapter, and tomorrow will be a new one. And I will do my best to fill it with more interesting and inspiring scenes.

To Catch a Snowflake

Snow came early this winter as was predicted, and it keeps falling almost everyday, adding new layers of snows that blanket the ground. Watching the falling snowflakes always gives me a sense of bliss and serenity that somehow metaphorically transforms the gloom to sunshine.

Snowy days remind me of the first simple poem that I wrote about snow after my first experience to see and observe the snow.

To Catch a Snowflake

Floating, swirling, in sync with the wind,

Delicate snowflakes are descending,

Veiling the land with glorious whiteness,

A shower of beauty that is a blessing.

Childhood dreams that have been long buried

In the vast ocean of my memory:

To walk and play in winter wonderland,

Have come alive in such a flurry.

To watch the snowfall by the window,

To catch the snowflakes in my hand,

To walk and bathe in lacy showers,

Can whisk my soul to ecstasy-land.

(27 December 2009)

The Merry Aspen Trees

One of the trees that I've come to love is the aspen tree. I see the thick foliage as its crowning glory, as it changes hues from spring to autumn. In spring, its yellow-green leaves bespeak of a fresh beginning with a promise. In summer, the leaves mature into darker green, though underneath each leaf is lighter, almost silvery. Finally, autumn bequeaths it with dazzling colors - yellow, orange or red, vibrant hues that never fail to delight the nature-lovers.

Its loveliness is even more striking when it stands alongside the evergreen trees under the deep blue sky.

Gazing at such vibrant scenery makes me feel like floating in space on the wings of ecstasy.

But the thing that completely mesmerizes me is the flapping of each little leaf when a wind passes through them. Especially in summer, when the leaves are still green. The silver underside of the leaves turn up as they unanimously wave at me, flashing their silver smiles and airing their musical greetings as they click one another.

Here is a short video I recorded one windy day at the onset of autumn. I just got off the bus and walked past a little park near our apartment. The merry sound that the wind generated from them caught my attention. (Note: the last sound came from a passing car.)

Now, the glorious colors have withered as the trees were totally stripped of their golden foliage. But they keep standing majestically, waiting for the whiteness of winter to coat them. And here in this blog stands a monument of these cheerful trees in the peak of their splendor, a monument that is created through the lens of my camera.

Like the Blink of an Eye

The season’s colorful splendor seems but a moment. One moment all the trees were ablaze with warm and happy colors, and the next moment they were all gone.  The vibrant autumn foliage that used to dance merrily with the wind has gradually let go of each little leaf, revealing the hidden branches and twigs that form the trees' contours. Even then, the bare trees still look stately with all their attractive patterns.

This brilliant season was just short-lived. As I said before, I may not be able to explore all the nearby places where the season's loveliness may be at its best. There was not much time. Everything transformed so fast. The thick golden foliage of the aspen trees in our neighborhood were suddenly bereft of their leaves the following day after a strong wind lashed at them and shook off all their leaves. 

The rowan trees that used to be laden with large bunches of red berries  have also been bereft of their fruits as flocks of waxwing birds devoured each little berry in a matter of minutes.

Only the pine and spruce trees remain clad in their evergreen needles.

With the passing of the season, gone too are the days of picking berries and mushrooms, fishing and picnicking. The days became shorter, darker and freezing, with occasional rain-shower and snowfall. 

Now, vegetation has been emptied of its foliage and is awaiting a lengthy period of hibernation in wintertime. There remains silence as the bare trees stand still, unable to produce music anymore when the wind comes roaming around. But then, I have had my enjoyment, though the fleeting season has prevented me from completely immersing myself in its dazzling colors. Well, there's next year again.

The season reminds me of a poem that my brother, my buddy and I used to recite years ago. It's Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay,  one of the world's well-quoted poems due to its  eloquence in describing the nature of human life in just a few short and simple lines. And I want to include this poem in this blog.

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold

Her hardest hue to hold

Her early leaf's a flower

But only so and hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf

So Eden sank to grief

So dawn goes down to day

Nothing gold can stay.

That's it. Everything changes so fast,  life flows in four seasons, and then it's gone, along with all its golden moments. But even before the end, something beautiful can happen. Just like the luster of autumn that preludes the dark cold winter.

But then again, life will cease to flow like the four seasons. It will become like a river that will keep running blithely throughout eternity. For I believe  in our Creator's promise to bestow eternal life to those who put Him first in their lives. Then life will become a gold that will stay forever.

White Saturday

Last night, just as I turned off the lights before going to bed, an unusually bright light streamed through the sides of our windows' blinds. I opened the blinds and was thrilled to see the ground and bushes covered all over with snow. I wasn't aware before that it had been snowing, and the snowfall went on through the night.

In the morning, when sleep and wakefulness still played tug-of-war in my semi-consciousness, the vision of snowy landscape flickered lightly in my mind, which finally nudged me to complete wakefulness. I bolted out of bed, headed straight to the windows and pulled up the blinds.

The sun was already up, illuminating the otherwise gloomy morning. Everything outside was blanketed with snow as thick as three to four inches, which also contributed to the brightness of the morning.

My eyes were drawn toward the couple of little rowan trees standing in our backyard. I was thrilled by the sight of snow piled up over the few bunches of red berries that still clang to the tips of some twigs. I put on my boots and jacket and went out to take a few shots. The snow started to melt and turned to ice in the form of drips, which glistened like crystals.

It looks like winter is sneaking in to a period where it doesn't belong. Autumn is still reigning, but some of its days are being showered with snowflakes. Eccentric, but in a way, the world is full of eccentricity these days, which we have come to terms with. 

Strange as it may seem, this kind of irregularity still amazes me. It's like a surprise that breaks the monotonous days which are usually dark, rainy and windy. The sight of snow at a time when it should not be there suddenly lifts up my spirits. And I find myself "soaking in" the all-white purity of the snow.

The advancing day completely melted  the snows clinging to the vegetation, though it failed to melt out those in the ground, which lent brightness to the night. The sun went down to the other side of the globe, leaving a trail of tangerine streaks in the horizon. 

The full moon took its place in the firmament, its radiantly silver face  smiling down at anyone looking at it. It had been a lovely day.