aperiodofhistory

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I walked through the woods the last day,

and saw little flowers that peeked out of the earth for me.

The rays of the sun shown between the branches,

the moss in the field gave fairytale glances.

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Late winter in the countryside

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Just a quick update: I have been sick on and off for the past month, so I haven't been able to create meaningful content for this blog. The struggle has been very real.

I hope to venture off into nature soon and take some photographs for you. I also went to the library and got quite a nice stack of books to read. Will make a short summary of them.

Small thing to be grateful for.

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“If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.”

Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

The way Wuthering Heights has me obsessed is for another story. I have read it in January and can not stop thinking about it. The moody setting, the complex characters, the unlikability. It was all so human. They live in the middle of nowhere in the Yorkshire Moors. In the fog, mud, and they somehow need to make it work. They need each other, but they would rather run away.

I just want to visit the Moors now. That is all that is on my mind.

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20 books in 2025

I'm so satisfied with the previous reading year. Probably because I have read mostly some of my favorite genres, fantasy, history, and horror. This year I want to tackle the following books, that have sat on my TBR for some time now. But also succumb to my mood reading habits of picking up books that feel right for that time of year.

The library of Babel by Jorge Luis Borges

Babel by Rebecca F. Kuang

Legends & Lattes by Baldree Travis

Fabric: The Hidden History of the Material World by Victoria Finlay

The Island of missing trees by Elif Shafak

Ways of being by James Bridle

The Gathering Dark: An Anthology of Folk Horror by various authors

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet

Shakespearean: On Life & Language in Times of Disruption by Robert McCrum

Femina by Ramírez Janina

Anything by Ava Reid

The road by Cormac McCarthy

Red rising by Pierce Brown

Annihilation by Jeff VanderMeer

Spinning silver by Naomi Novik

Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov

More of Jane Austen

The bog wife, by Kay Chronister

Throne of glass series, by Sarah J. Mass

The tenant of Wildfell Hall, by Anne Bronte

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Upward, to the snowy mountain peaks, we go.

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They say you go up the gravel road, through the trees that succumbed to the black plague. Long has it been this way, the locals say, generations back, when the first elders arrived in these mountains.

They were cruel and demanded sacrifices, first in the form of herbs and local meat. Then their satisfaction was greater with a different kind of meat.

When the locals didn't comply with their wishes, they unleashed monsters upon them. And the monsters would drag people into the darkness of the mountains.

There are no gods here, only monsters.

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Down by the lake, where a water nymph lives.

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The urge to escape into a cottage near a forest edge, where snow finds its way into the winter garden and birds quietly sing while the tea is boiling.

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A ghost of the past

The grey lady died the other day,

in that old house, covered with ivy leaves.

A house made of bricks and wood,

there was nothing left, but one soul and food.

When the night fell and the lights went out,

I looked out of the window

and saw a flicker of the old widow.

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winter gothic

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Every year I wait for autumn to begin. It probably sounds strange, but I feel the most energized when moody weather begins. Fog, rain, and darkness.

Walking through the red and brown colors of nature. Returning home, making myself a cup of tea, and reading a good book. This is where my happiness lies.

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Slowly falling in love with the November forest.

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The witch in the bog

A sense of dread has come

as I step into the eerie bog.

A calm so blissfully strange,

of a creature hiding in the fog.

They say you live here,

in a nest, made as a branched crown.

They say you grant three wishes,

but take the soul with you down.

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It is an Ethel Cain, Billy Joel, Simon & Garfunkel kind of moody autumn weather.

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The legend of Sleepy Hollow vibes.

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An autumn walk into a rain-drenched forest.