Our garden has a lot of little visitors as we don’t use any chemicals. We certainly don’t like slugs because they know exactly our favorite flowers and eat them up first, and they don’t have any natural enemies. But all the other little critters are welcome. I usually take a walk in the evening with my camera, two close-up lenses and a magnifying glass to look for these little visitors. Right now, when the flowers start to bloom, it’s really wonderful to look at all the changes every day. Look how nice the little fluffy butterfly is hanging in the columbine. How must it feel to be a little snail being embraced by the petals of peony flower? The ant is climbing-up another peony like on a mountain. So come for a little walk with me to our garden…
A time of magic
Reluctantly night is thrusting the black velvety curtain aside –
angels are collecting billions of twinkling stars in their aprons.
The first sunbeams are falling silently on the ground,
falling on wet moss,
falling on glittering dew drops, enlightening the world with hope.
A green lizard is looking into the sky with beady little eyes
whilst a young nightingale tries its first love song.
Fairies are blending colors on their palettes, splashing
a little white and magenta on tulips,
a little yellow and salmon on narcissuses
and blue on forget-me-nots.
A black beetle with long antennas got drunk with bliss in a pink blossom,
his legs and antennas covered with yellow pollen
that he would generously pass- on to other blooms
There’s a certain magic in the air –
everything is renewed, fresh and beautiful, virgin like, angel like, enchanted
Spring – a time of magic
In the last months we made several trips to the Eastern part of Germany, down at the Elbe River, because we want to buy a house there. Some parts of this area have been the GDR for many years and it seems that they fell into oblivion. There are nearly no people on the streets, only a few shops, no life, nearly deserted and slowly decaying. You could get the impression that they tip up the footpath at 20.00h – as we say here.
On the other hand, due to the fact, that they didn’t renovate the old houses – partly even with timber framework, you can still find a lot of wonderful very old doors, even from the time 1815 – 1850. Unfortunately many of them were half-rotten, which is a real pity. But some had been fixed and painted and were beautiful again. Hope you enjoy my photos.
Embedded in the magenta of a Magnolia blossom,
tender petals like the soft touch of a lover’s hand,
a little green fly with translucent wings covered with dew-
drops is waiting for the sun
spring is coddling the world with enchanting colors
making forget the black and white death
the first butterflies are staggering through the air
wearing white wafting tunics with black dots
drunk with bliss –
the dance of the Cherubim
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness
has replaced the meadows’ wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernesses,
hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.
Rainer Maria Rilke (translator unknown)
This time I want to take part in the weekly photo challenge. I have so many photos where animals are atop of something, be it a windowsill, a table, stairs, a rock, a roof, a car, a motorbike, a chair etc.
On the other hand I have been atop of the sea and a lighthouse has been atop of me. It’s like in real life, sometimes you’re atop and sometimes your down. May you always be atop in your lifes.
It’s a long time ago that I posted something from Kefalonia, Greece. That’s why I looked-up all my photos today. I still got so many old doors but today you will see some old windows. Windows are like the eyes of a house. They tell stories, too.
I love these pastel colors of decay, the little melancholic mood they transfer. I still remember these wonderful and calm golden hours when I went for walks in the evening. The sun was still shining, but was on its way to say goodbye to this side of the world. The golden sunrays were covering the whole island with a soft cape of farewell, still so mellow and warm like the Mediterranean sun is. All colors are changing, looking more blurred and there is tranquility all over as if the day is tired. This special spirit is so overwhelming for me that I nearly feel like crying. I want to stop the sun from disappearing behind the mountains; I want it to stay forever and ever and not to leave me there in darkness. It’s the death of a day.