Absolutely Autumn.

Autumn has definitely arrived at my terrasse.
The last blossoms of the summer are fighting for their existence in yellow, orange and red.

This spring I spread nasturtium seeds in pots and pans wherever I saw brown soil. I fear that snails and caterpillars might eat the most, but oh joy, the power of the seed won the race.

My mother would always use the last summer months first removing the blossoms, they are edible, to lure the plants producing  more flowers, and later collecting seeds for next year's flower feast.    I feel so close to her, going through the same procedures. 

  
Begonias are fighting for their lives. The first night frost will mean the end of them. I will as always bring them in security, in our basement,  and try keeping them alive till next spring.
 

I have collected small seeds from the pansies since August. They have been a true blessing. Blooming since April.

My dahlias are the greatest challenge. They either dry or rot indoors. This time I have found a garden expert allied. By following her advices I once more will give them a chance. It's to sad just to let them die. They are grandmother  flowers and so deserve to live. "The spring begins in the autumn", Karel Capek said. I'm so looking forwards to the fruits of my work. Have a wonderful Ruby Tuesday.

 
Photo and poem © 2013 by Magical Mystical Teacher


http://rubytuesdaytoo.blogspot.com.au

Ruby Autumn Norway

Two weeks ago we were rambling in the local district, turning our back from the sea to a fjord, woodland and inland.
The picturesque Monet bridge made us stop the car.

Time to return to old habits and joys. Like for instance blogging Ruby Tuesday 2.
The blond summer was busy, but now we're past Autumnal Equinox and it's time to slow down.



What a difference in the scenery just a few miles away.
We found the Norwegian edition of Monet's garden and deer preparing to leave the lowlands before the hunting season.A log cabin, smaller than any American shed, but a paradise to admire from the road to me.



A slow, but wonderful restful time of the year. I love being in it. Stretching out the joys of daylight as long as possible.
 

Shutting out the el.light in the morning. "Don't burn a hole in the day," my mother exhorted, long before Al Gore even thought of going green. In a short month the light will have diminished drastically. Carpe momentum is  the slogan. Time is precious.

Peacefully grassing

The deer are moving towards the mountains and the hunters are loading the firearms. We have too many deer for the time being, and even though they look breathtakingly elegant and lovely, they taste even better. I am so looking forwards to a tasty  autumn meal.

Home is the sailor, home from the sea and the hunter is home from the ground...

Welcome to
RUBY TUESDAY TOO

The sun also rises...and sets

King Winter has been extremely reluctant to leave the country.
April is soon over, and yet the grass is brown and the birches haven't sprung.
The sun is, however, with us longer day by day. We have about 15 hours of sun each day. Some amazing sun-downs and sunrises to enjoy in  thick winter-clothing.

Morning sunrise in the east.

And sunset in the west.

I wouldn't change these magic hours for any Spanish beach.
This is where I belong.
This is where the sun also rises for me.

Welcome to play on with the members of Ruby Tuesday2

Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

From old grave yards. A spring report.

Gunnar and I were out on photo safari in the neighbourhood yesterday. The  grave yards of the parish of Skaare have so many ancient head stones. Like this with a German text on it:

Psalm 69:1
Gott, hilf mir; denn das Wasser geht mir bis an die Seele.

² Ich versinke im tiefen Schlamm, da kein Grund ist; ich bin im tiefen Wasser, und die Flut will mich ersäufen.

³ Ich habe mich müde geschrieen, mein Hals ist heiser; das Gesicht vergeht mir, daß ich so lange muß harren auf meinen Gott.

Psalm 69

King James Version (KJV)

69 Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul.

² I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing: I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.
³ I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried: mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.

 The old church, now gone. was situated about the place I was standing while photographing the old graves.
I wonder, were shipwrecked sailors resting underneath this special stone?

My friend Annie has a fine word for walking in grave yards. I hope she'll repeat it once more to me. I keep forgetting.
The text on this cast iron stone moved me deeply.
"Hereunder rests the dust of Madame so and so, widow after meerchant so and so. 
She was born in 1778 on Hauske vicarage and died in Haugesund 1860. 
She had no children of her own, but by her goodness she became mother to many who remember her with great thankfulness.
Among these were particularly two who she took in her care, and loved as if they were her own, and who always will keep her memory in loving recollection.
Peace be with thy dust.
Blessed by thy memory."

This happened at a time when Norway was among the poorest countries in Europe.I found it very moving.

A special neighbourhood to the old church. The red roofs are for Ruby Tuesday.

 If one didn't have much land, but was in need of housing, one might build like this one century ago.

Gunnar overlooking one more graveyard.

Beautiful out take of a headstone.

Dandelion spring is finally here.

A stroll down to the sea, where children will be swimming in a month or two.

 ...And back again, where the train is waiting.

May your guardian angel follow you both this Monday, the Ruby Tuesday and evermore.

Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

A Thousand Splendid Suns

 

Morning has broken into a thousand splendid suns.

Morning has broken
Like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken
Like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing
Fresh from the word

Sweet the rains new fall
Sunlit from heaven
Like the first dew fall
On the first grass
Praise for the sweetness
Of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness
Where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight
Mine is the morning
Born of the one light
Eden so play
Praise with elation
Praise every morning
God' s recreation
Of the new day

Morning has broken
Like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken
Like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing
Fresh from the world.

Cat Stevens 

Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

Happy Birthday

Our beloved Serina was 25 a week ago. We usually celebrate a birthday for 24 hours. Opening presents at midnight. No wonder Serina was a bit tired for breakfast. The menu was red gel, strawberry dipped in chocolate and Californian Rose wine.

 

With her birthday crown she looked exactly ten years old.

 

Red lipstick after breakfast nap. Isn't she lovely? She's also painted the scenery of the narrow roads to Sauda standing to the left.

 Birthday child posing with a glimpse in her eye. "I'm finally old enough to wear my glasses in a string", she mocked.

 A penny for your thoughts. Maybe the bitter sweet poem by Irish  William Butler Yeats?

When You Are Old
William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
  
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face among a crowd of stars.

Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher

ANGELS

 I'm so lucky, I have two churches where I feel at home.   
The picture above is from  The Church of Our Saviour in Haugesund. The picture under is from Sauda Church, which is its official name.

The special thing is that both churches have altar pieces depicting Jesus in Gethsemane.
Both are made by local painters, both are very well describing the loneliness. pain and agony of Christ.
There is one important difference though.
On the Sauda altar piece Christ is not alone. 
An angel was sent to wipe the blood sweat from his forehead. 
Jesus felt alone. He prayed to avoid what he knew was coming. "Not as I will, but as you will," he added.  
The answer was a comforting and strengthening angel.
We too are surrounded by angels.
Psalm 91:^{11 "}For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;"  
Let's rest in that promise.

Early Spring Fleemarket

Some way Ukraine has become the country people in this region of Norway consider their responsibility. Several organizations and private persons gather money for our starving, freezing, poor neighbors. Nobody can help all, everybody can help one.  Fleemarkets are a poplar way of raising money.

mSerina and I went to a fleemarket this Saturday on a nearby island, Bokn. People there are famous for their collective spirit. They are mostly fishermen, oil rig workers or farmers, that means they are used to take responsibility for their neighbors in more than one way.

We are in between seasons. Ice in the salt sea, and flowers in the sunny hillsides.

There should be some red on the roofs, but I doubt you can spot them. I used my iPone cam on this trip.Three islands with bridges and two deep under water tunnels ( about 300 meeter below water) are  connecting our town southwards.

Houses for fisher boats and tourists by the shore.
  

Old, weatherbeaten roof.

Ancient civilization, a garden with an old pavilion, orchard and the first snowdrops.

 

 Serina resting after the "gold rush" .

 

The apex of the day, meeting the first snow drops of the year .

Home again displaying the catch of the day. A red latern, a vase, six trolls, a dozen books, Kosta Boda crystal, Pilgrim jewelry and other handy things for the home. Thank God; for the first meeting with the spring. 
 
Photo  © 2012 by Magical Mystical Teacher