Ingela Bohm's Blog, page 34

Watching the sunrise

My natural instinct is to photograph the evening light, since I’m a bit of a night owl, but this morning I set the alarm to four o’clock and went out to capture the sunrise instead. A herculean feat, believe me, but my tiredness soon evaporated as I climbed a small hill and saw the sky turn pink and gold.

I’ve never actually watched a sunrise before. I’ve been up at dawn, yes, but then I’ve always been busy with something else. Today I just stood there and drank the light that spilled over the horizon and flooded the forest. For every passing minute, the colours changed, and I had this feeling of being there, of seeing the day start in a very concrete way.

This tree looked like it was still half asleep, the bark at the back still clinging to the chill of the night, while the lichen caught the first rays of the sun and basked in the warmth.

Finally the whole valley was aglow with morning light, each individual twig and fir needle sparkling and awake.

The beard lichen glittered like golden tufts of hair in the pine trees.

When I turned around and saw my equipment sitting there, basking in the sun just like the rest of the world, I had to snap a picture of that too!

My battery died, so I missed the sun-pierced veil of mist over the creek, but an hour later, I took a final picture in the forest behind the cabin. The sun is so bright that almost all of the colour drains from the photo, but I still think it conveys the calm of the place.

Cabin weekend

Come Monday, it’s back to the dayjob for me. To squeeze the last drops out of my wonderful vacation, M and I went to our cabin in the woods – not for the last time, mind you. We like to go there now and then during the autumn as well. As long as there’s no snow, we persevere.

I had to take a new version of this beautiful line of birches to see if my new wide-angle lens (yay) makes any difference. I think it does. The picture is sharper, for one, and that lovely golden green of the birch leaves sort of pops, doesn’t it?

While the others sat by the fire, I set off on my usual quest for evening pink skies and mist. I was not disappointed.

On Saturday, we went for groceries in a nearby village, and my hopes for a picture from the mountain were dashed because of the rain. But on the way back, it let up, and the dispersing clouds were so dramatic over the lake.

This is what I saw when I turned back to shore! Hard to believe that it’s the same day with the same weather, isn’t it?

The whole weekend was both warm and sunny and cool and rainy. Apparently the perfect conditions for redcurrants, because look how they developed over only two days:

 

Pine needles

Endless summer

We had a series of thunder storms today, which is fun all in itself, but the best part was the humidity they left behind. The creek looked like it was smouldering, and I stayed out in the woods for something like three hours to capture it all.

Now when I look at the pictures I took, I imagine the lyrics to Pax song Endless Summer.

“… Endless summer

won’t you stay here

stay her with me

with me

inside this

endless summer
won’t you stay here
together with me
with me
in this endless summer…”

I’m reminded of something I read in a book on photography: that to take great pictures, you need to be willing to go out when everyone else stays in. So true. And so, so worth it.










I didn’t see the little slug until I zoomed in on the pictures after I got home!












I think I stayed by the creek for half an hour, just snapping away.
















When the gold turned to bluish twilight, I ventured into the woods to capture some misty trees.















Everything was so quiet, so humid and so warm. When I got back home, everyone had gone to sleep.[image error]

Nights are getting darker

A cloudy outing

Today we just took the car and drove south. I had no idea our county had waterfalls, but apparently it does! Flanked by the trusty willow herb, of course.

This kind of roundpole fence is very common around here. Unbarked, unsplit young trees are laid in a diagonal pattern and bound to vertical poles using binding cord made from saplings.

Another common view: ripening wild raspberries against a backdrop of mountains, lakes and forest.

Another perfect summer’s day

 

 

Picture drought…

But I’ll post yesterday’s meagre harvest anyway.

I’ve been trying to catch this tarn on a good day, but it seems impossible. The light is always wrong. So here it is in all its boringness!

A rowan growing out of the carcass of its forefather.

On the way home, I encountered a veritable army of these little guys. They were no bigger than my smallest fingernail! I pestered some of them for minutes to get a non-blurry image. Sorry ’bout that…

Summer haze

Wow… Just bear with me while I post much too many photos of tonight’s sun ‘n’ mist double bill. It was magical. I know I always say that, but tonight took the biscuit. I chased the setting sun along the road by the creek, and for every minute, the colours changed. I was smiling like a lunatic the whole time.

Layers of forest in the mist.

The evening was on fire.

The mist was glowing.

 

 

Chasing the setting sun.

 

 

Heaven in a puddle.

Pink and gold summer haze

Wow… Just bear with me while I post much too many photos of tonight’s sun ‘n’ mist double bill. It was magical. I know I always say that, but tonight took the biscuit. I chased the setting sun along the road by the creek, and for every minute, the colours changed. I was smiling like a lunatic the whole time.

Layers of forest in the mist.

The evening was on fire.

The mist was glowing.

Chasing the setting sun.

Heaven in a puddle.