themorningowl

[themorningowl]

Soon to change.

[themorningowl]

Morning forest

[themorningowl]

We meet again.

[themorningowl]

Spring crust

Tested by sun, tested by rain

Catching the clouds’ color as they wane

Keeping the memories of winter's play

Leading the way into a new day

[themorningowl]

The gang.

Seemingly calm, they eat, yet they watch the others' every move. Divided in their rivalry, united in their agreement over the land and food that is theirs, not the birds'. And the mouse, well, he's just there hoping for not too much drama.

Species: red squirrel and yellow-necked mouse.

[themorningowl]

Foggy grey. Raw cold, slippery. Grey, ice, melting crystal hard ice snow. Ice, slippery and grey.

Yet somehow beautiful.

[themorningowl]

Frozen light

[themorningowl]

Numb

[themorningowl]

Wait! Stay there. Take a deep breath. Relax your shoulders. Turn your ear to the babbling brook, your face to the sun. Can you feel it? Could this be where your peace lives?

[themorningowl]

Rose gold and apricot.

[themorningowl]

Do you have something for me?

Species: Eurasian siskin, blackbird and red squirrel.

[themorningowl]

Wonderful White Winter World

[themorningowl]

The cold has loosened its grip on the landscape. Released from its shackles of ice, the stream flows slowly in its snow-lined furrow, its movements plastic, its surface reticent about what its bottom holds. Beautiful like a ribbon of dark blue velvet left on snow-white wadding. Its only way is forward, relentlessly but quietly and contemplatively, like the January day.

[themorningowl]

Approaching sunrise, approaching sunset.

[themorningowl]

My five most memorable nature moments in 2024

This was a day in the middle of February when the cold returned after a period of milder, overcast weather. The cloud cover that had long separated the sky from the earth dispersed, exposing its glacial blue arch. Covered with crystal chandeliers of ice, the tree branches illuminated the forest canopy with their frozen light. A gray, chirping cloud of redpolls passed over - a few days later I would count them in the hundreds upon hundreds in the area - and a couple of crows cawed enthusiastically, invigorated by the rays of a sun that felt more and more like a spring sun. In that moment everything felt complete.

Midsummer was approaching and the world was awash in a floral splendor born of the recent days’ rain. On this day the rain clouds had parted and a light mist was drifting through the trees in the forest, leaving glittering dewdrops where it passed. A cuckoo accompanied me on my walk through the forest, sometimes so close to me that I could glimpse its blue-gray form in the dense foliage. The magic of summer danced in the air – along with the mosquitoes, of course.

There were many days of thunder this summer and this morning was the prelude to another such day. Nature was preparing for thunder and a cloud cover built by giants rolled in. The wind rested and a stillness almost unreal held the world in its grip while the electric charge slowly increased in the air. Isn't that the best thing, the drama before it gets too dramatic?

It was the middle of August and the vegetation had brought out its first autumn colours. The mist hanging over the forest revealed the spiders' nocturnal activities; drop after drop from it was caught by the silk threads of the spider webs, nature's own raincatchers. As I crossed a stream on my way further into the forest, a grey heron flew up a few meters from me and disappeared into the fog with slow, mighty wingbeats. It was in no hurry, just as nothing in nature seemed to be then. Neither did I need to be.

This was another foggy day – I love them! The deciduous trees burnt a fiery orange, sharp against the white veil that surrounded them. As I turned off the road into the woods, I found myself face to face with three roe deer, a buck, and two does. For a few seconds, we just looked at each other, sharing a mutual surprise. Then they took a few graceful leaps aside into the shelter of the trees. A few meters away from me, they stopped and looked at me as if they were urging me to move on. I did as they wished and with their eyes on me I slowly walked further into the autumn forest. When I turned around, they had returned to their foraging.

These were my five most memorable nature moments in 2024. I hope your year 2025 will contain many beautiful and memorable moments - in nature as well as elsewhere - and that you now have a great continuation of this new year!

[themorningowl]

Dawn and dusk.

Happy Holidays everyone!

[themorningowl]

What is the likelihood that I will learn about polar stratospheric clouds and observe them the next day? These are nature's beautiful warning lights for the ozone depletion and accumulation of greenhouse gases that is taking place in the atmosphere. If all of nature's warning signs were equally spectacular, would we pay more attention to them?