• Around home and village

    Sunday afternoon walk

    Unlike his older brother, our 9-year-old son has been eager to ride a bike and demands riding it every day. To make him pleased we went for a longer walk on Sunday afternoon here in the village where we live. There is a minor road leading to a distant part of the village and as it’s not used much by cars, it is suitable for walking and cycling. I decided to take a camera with me, what if there was something worthy of catching… There was, of course, as there always is, only the sun was quite sharp. Let’s take a few stops along the way. We have a pond…

  • Around home and village

    Double beauty

    Isn’t it funny? On Friday afternoon I commented on a beautiful and quite unusually arched rainbow presented by my friend Linda in her Rainbow post and a few hours later my son was calling me to have a look outside to see a rainbow too. I did and was amazed by its beauty and dissimilarity from the one Linda posted. This one was narrow, stretching high, surrounded by soft red light at its most shining parts and accompanied by one more less visible arch. I could see the whole arch but it was too close to catch it in one photograph. It was right in front of me, the beginning…

  • Around home and village

    Winter scenes

    When we woke up on 30th December in the end of the last year and looked out of a window, there was a beautiful blue sky and unusually white trees. My husband got up, came back with his camera and started to take pictures of our garden. First I was laughing but after a while I went for my camera too… After comparing our shots we separated our ways – he made a decision to go to the village and explore its surroundings and I went into the garden to take a closer look. My hands were freezing while playing with the camera and when I finally went home, I…

  • Poetry

    Second chance

    While I was browsing through blogs a few hours ago, I unexpectedly found inspiration in one of them. There was a photo picturing trees lit by golden light and a forked trail running among them. First trying just to write a short rhyming comment I could not stop looking for better suited words and here it is, a product of that inspiration, together with a photo I took in the end of the last year: Snowy scenes And lonely trails Stretching to infinity Hearts being weighed On precise scales Found guilty or not guilty Of emptiness, Of apathy, Of being cold as ice We beg for our second chance Another game of dice PS You know,…

  • Around home and village

    Winter atmosphere

    “I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape. The loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.” Andrew Wyeth Once I read an article about how to find the soul of a garden. The author of that article expressed an idea saying that the soul becomes obvious just in winter when there are no leaves disturbing its expression. Well, the truth is that places do look different in summer and in winter, no doubt about it. However, I am not so sure that only the bare winter appearance presents the soul. I like all the…

  • Around home and village

    Autumnal air

    There was a pond fishing in our village yesterday and I was firmly convinced to go there and to take my camera. The pond fishing takes place every year in the beginning of October and although we have been living here for 9 years, we have never been to it. I supposed that it would start early and wanted to be there at 8 o’clock at the latest but we got up not that early and came to the pond at about 9:15 a.m. I had the camera but there was nothing interesting to be shot as nearly all the fish were already out in tanks being weighed, sold and…

  • Poetry

    Metamorphoses

    Just a small rise in temperature is enough to turn sparkling white snow into muddy and dirty slush. Just an inconspicuous moment of hesitation is enough to turn a resolution into empty words. Just the slightest breath of laziness is enough to turn promises into reproaches. Well, be sure that mud won’t turn back into snow. Trust won’t arise from disappointment. But every following minute brings a chance to start again. A chance for me. A chance for you. Because each of us carries the burden of their guilt.