One of the amazing things about living here is the clouds. In summer they bloom, growing bigger and bigger over the day. Fluffy and soft. White, grey, wispy.
Summer storms have swept across the archipelago this week. Lightening flashing and thunder rolling like drums over the landscape. It’s storms like these that make me realise how Norse mythology developed. Thor, the God of Thunder, crashed through the sky, leaving chaos in his wake.
Lightning, as spectacular as it is, comes with the crackle of danger, and this week was no exception, striking a barn and a camper van, burning both. A June lightning strike would have undoubtedly meant more fires. Thank Goddess for the summer rains!
Somehow the sky is closer here than at home in Australia. I can almost reach out and wrap the clouds around me, their softness comforting like the fluffy blanket on my couch. Perhaps I need some comfort as we start to plan our Australia adventure. Memories of home invade my thoughts—sounds of the beach, sand, sun—as I look out at the Nordic nature from my workplace.
It’s now I ponder whether I should have committed to this summer job. Too late now. I’ll make do with a few summer days snatched here and there. Still, the feel of the sand, warm under my feet, salt spray on the air, sun, baking my skin, salt-dried and stinging, swirls in my mind. My body remembers.
I focus. Here. Now. Fields and forests of green roll by as I drive home, lush and thick with growth. Forests, humming gladly after the summer rain. Birch trees sigh in relief as rains save their tender leaves.
The lushness of the landscape was overwhelming at first. I remember feeling stifled when I lived in Germany, decades ago—closed in. The greenness overwhelmed me, the air heavy with moisture that made it hard for me to breathe.
I don’t feel the same now. Perhaps it’s because I’m older. Wiser? Maybe… But the intensity of the lush growth, so different from the parched, sparse landscape I grew up in, is comforting. Nourishing, even. As with the clouds, I wrap myself in the lush green landscape. It soothes.
I think a lot about colour—how we experience it, how it makes me feel. My partner is colourblind—red/green, the most common type—and I wonder how he sees the world. How would I feel not seeing the green lushness of the forests, the bright red lingonberries and wild strawberries hidden in the undergrowth, and the soft pink of clouds as the sun sets? I guess I wouldn’t miss it because I wouldn’t know.
He draws comfort from nature just as much as I do. Sights, sounds, scents. R2-D2 birds. The hooting, desperate cuckoo. Soft scents of wildflowers and grass. Ballooning clouds that traverse the sky.
We walk down to the water’s edge. Reeds wave at us, lilac tips like feathers, soft and flowy. I slip into the welcoming water, washing away workday worries—although I’m not as enthusiastic as usual due to a light breeze, a little chilly. My pep talk: If I can swim in winter I can dip myself in in this summer serenity! It’s not cold—not warm either. Refreshing.
Wisps of clouds whiten the blue sky as we towel ourselves dry. Nature’s comforting embrace soothing our senses once again.
Let me know what soothes you—leave a comment on the post or press reply to the email.
Stay Well,
Lisa x
Welcome to my new subscribers! I seem to be getting new sign-ups on a weekly basis at the moment and I am so grateful that you make the time to read my musings and soak in the photos.
I’m Writing:
My cloud obsession is real! I’ve written about it before, it seems:
Enjoy!
Wonderfully lush photography, just beautiful!
Avid sky admirer here ☁️ watching the play in colour. In the mornings regularly the blue is indescribable and the clouds are candy floss pink 💕 it’s an absolute feast for the eyes.