Ingela Bohm's Blog, page 31

As long as we’re lying…

… we might as well do it in style. Last night’s harvest comes with the same disclaimer as yesterday. Don’t be fooled by the colours, but do enjoy.

The truth about lies

Last night was cold. Really cold. Before I went out, I wondered if I could wear sandals, but I settled for wellies. And good thing I did, because before I came back home, my toes were deep frozen.

So. What happens around here when there’s a sudden shift towards colder temperatures? I’ll tell you what doesn’t happen. This:

And yet there’s the proof, right there. So what’s going on here?

Well, for about a week now, online forums have gone crazy over the aurora borealis, which are apparently very active right now. So yesterday evening while I was looking for a dark spot to photograph the starry vault, I guess I had the northern lights at the back of my mind.

So when I was giving up on the lake because there were too many streetlamps, I glanced towards the north and thought, “That sure is a very visible cloud. Hm. I wonder if it could possibly  be…” And I turned my camera towards the pale grey formation in the sky and clicked the shutter.

This is what the camera saw. Not me. Beautiful, yes, but a total lie. When I came home, I even tried to desaturate the colours and change a load of settings to show what it really looks like, but I couldn’t. The camera sees something I can’t see, and I can’t make it show my point of view. The closest I can come is this:

And yet it’s too green, but if I adjust it more, the rest of the picture becomes too red.

So why am I telling you this? Why am I not just hopping on the bandwagon and spreading a false but beautiful image of what my country is like? Because it gives rise to false expectations and false jealousy. It’s like the mask of happiness and success so many people are struggling so hard to keep in place: it’s not real. The makeup that covers up the dark circles – it looks fantastic, but it’s an illusion.

I won’t pretend that I’ve ever seen a clear, neon green sheet dancing above the treetops, because it just isn’t true. The truth is that you can see faint, pale wisps of light sweeping across the night sky like ghosts, and if you’ve never been unduly primed by the barrage of crazy-green pictures on social media, that’s quite breath-taking enough.

Then again, what if this is what foxes see? Or birds? Or beings we don’t even know about? If the camera lens can see it, maybe other creatures can too? Maybe this is simply a lesson: if someone else says they can see something I can’t see, the fault just might lie with me. Perhaps humans are the only ones on Earth who can’t see what’s really there.

Food for thought as we continue to wipe out our fellow inhabitants.

Artedi my man

Today I finished my first edits on my first contracted novella. The man who is commemorated by this stone isn’t exactly a character in the story, and yet he figures quite prominently, and the main characters might not get together if it weren’t for him…

Tonight the stars shone down on his memory.

A world of yellow

Everything is covered in leaves now – firs, moss, stones, roads… It’s all twinkling orange, yellow and red.

And every leaf is dotted with dew drops, shining on the ground even when the sun is hidden by the clouds.

 

Still going strong

Despite the cold, despite every other plant giving up, the clover toughs it out. Small and easy to overlook, it gilds the wayside with its soft purple colour.

Talking trees

This weekend was all about the leaves.

Everywhere I went, they were letting go, sailing down on a light breeze, tangling in my clothes and hair.

It was so refreshing to be surrounded by all that dancing yellow, I just couldn’t help giving them a hand.

It was cloudy, but the forest was alive with red and yellow.

Lik walking through a portal to another world.

Chasing feathers

I was supposed to photograph the view, but this feather caught all my attention, sailing along on the water.

The lake looked so calm, but the feather floated so quickly, almost too quickly for me to follow.

The evening sun shone from a softly cloudy sky, and the feather bathed in the golden light.

Finally, it landed on some stones, and I could snap all the pictures I wanted.

 

 

 

Competing lights

No filter, I swear to God.

Arrival

This weekend, we escaped to the countryside again. It’s only an hour from home, but the autumn is much further gone, and the cabin was really cold. It’s a kind of ritual, to light the candles, stoke the stove and get a fire going. Quickly, quickly, before you freeze to death.

Next project, wine.

After that, it’s time for dinner preparations. Violent ones!

EVery time, I take pictures, and they’re always identical. Same thing, every time. And that’s what I love about it. The routine. Like a movie you’ve seen a hundred times.

Busy background

I don’t know, something about this chaotic copse appealed to me.