An American's Reflections
Refreshing rain. Brown dying branches. Fresh green growth. Sunshine through the water droplets. Opposites that blend and contrast. Invigorating!
All through my dirty window. The dirt adds texture, don’t you think? (That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.)
While sitting together over coffee this morning, we watched the interplay of sun, clouds, and rain across the fjord over Fanafjellet. I didn’t get up to get my camera; I just sat and absorbed the subtly changing scenery.
These photos aren’t from today, but they have cloud, sun, and rain patterns similar to what I saw.
We’ve lived in this little piece of paradise for almost two years now. Our views here are a different perspective compared to those we saw when we lived at a higher elevation on Løvstakken overlooking the southern Bergen valley.
The intermittent rain stopped a couple hours ago, and the sun and clouds have been playing hide and seek. It’s a little nippy to sit outside and enjoy it, but I did go out for a bit … just in time to catch this.
A magical moment.
And then, just as I was about to hit the “publish” button, my husband called me out to see this.
That sun and cloud glow: two magic moments in one hour. Thank you, Norway!
So, Storm Nina happened on Saturday. It was wild. We lost power for most of the day. It came back on in the night, and I thought to publish this yesterday (Sunday) — but then we lost power again in the morning, and didn’t get it back until late at night. We’ve gone through a lot of candles!
Called “the strongest storm in 20 years,” Bergen’s airport was closed (*that* rarely happens), and this page from Bergens Tidende has several videos from the Bergen area.
We could feel the winds as they shifted; from inside, the windows were the big clue.
This is a minute-long compilation of our Saturday from 100 meters above the fjord, taken while there was still light enough to see. Yes, I went outside for a bit!
The wind continued long after dark. Without power, it was eerie and enticing at the same time.
Sunday morning the only damage we could see in our immediate area were the many tree branches on the ground, and the one just outside my office window that doesn’t want to leave its tree just yet. My work view has changed.
And then we looked up to a tree in our front yard. I’m glad I wasn’t out when that came flying from another tree.
During his drive into Osøyro to find something for us to eat yesterday, Jan saw many trees down. An apartment had been blown away. Although I feel somewhat exposed up here in our community, it was obviously so much worse elsewhere. (And all of Europe is experiencing strange and extreme weather — right, Jane?)
My outside windows are now very dirty. They’ll have to wait to be cleaned — two days later, we’ve got strong winds and rain out there again. If you don’t “see” me around this blogosphere of ours, it means our power is out and I’m sitting and reading by candlelight again!
January 12, 2015
Hello, blogging friends! It’s been seven weeks since I was an active part of the blogosphere, and I’ve missed you all.
But I haven’t been bored! I’ve savored time with my family in the US …
Thanksgiving with family is one of my favorite times of year!
… and, since getting home, I’ve also enjoyed time with my family in Norway with visits to and from Sandviken and Osterøy.
I got back to Norway just before Christmas. There was a lot of quick prep for the season mixed into the jet lag, including bringing in 2013’s live Christmas tree that we never got planted in 2014 …
Christmas with family is also one of my favorite times of year!
Our tree has shed its heavy ornaments and is back outside again. We’ll see if it survives to be planted in 2015!
With the snow …
December 28, 2014
… that then switched to rain that we’ve had these past few weeks, I enjoyed the muted painted colors of the rarely seen sun setting over the North/Norwegian Sea about an hour after that cloud-shrouded snow landscape photo was taken …
December 28, 2014
… as well as that sun peeking through the rain clouds at 2:46 pm on December 31st as it sank towards the sea. It seemed to be saying goodbye to 2014 one last time …
December 31, 2014
Although not nearly as vivid as last year’s display, the foggy/rainy New Year’s Eve fireworks at midnight from all the communities here in Lysekloster were exciting, especially the colorful bursts from two of my neighbors down the mountain …
And, add to all that family and joy and beauty and celebrating, work and building a new website were a big part of the mix. It’s been a busy, wonderful, and rewarding time of life!
Godt Nyttår! Happy New Year! My wish is that 2015 is one of health and happiness for each of you. Virtual hugs from Norway — and I’ll “see” you soon on your corner of the Internet!
Life is full of contrasts, and Michelle challenges us to show that: Light and dark, tall and short, happy and sad — this week, share a shot that captures a contrast.
There are so many directions I could run with this one … but I decided on literal examples of the changing look of the views outside our apartment.
Remember January’s full moon — also known as a Wolf Moon? The timing was just right for me to capture shots of both the moon rising in the northeast to the right of our front doors at the same time the sun was setting in the southwest to the left of our doors; these photos were taken about 30 seconds apart at 5:24 pm on January 14, 2014:
Such a contrast of heavenly bodies and the colors they create!
Another contrast in views I captured was the difference between a lightly iced- and snow- covered fjord, farm, and Ole Bull‘s Villa on Lysøen in January 2014, and the same views in the delightful late spring/early summer sunshine of June 2014:
(Here is another favorite view of the island of Lysøen — with its smooth fjord waters, it’s an additional image showing contrast.)
And finally, a specific image of the weather contrast between two separate cloud bursts out towards Sotra and the North Sea, with blue sky, sunny tops of clouds, and the sun’s reflection on our neighbor’s house providing an engaging contrast in this June 28th photo:
To the right was a powerful thunderstorm bearing down on us, which contrasts with those blue skies too — but I thought this one image was much more compelling.
What contrasts do you observe in your life? If you’re participating in this challenge, did you go in a figurative or literal interpretation?
Wednesday we took a quick trip to an area a short distance from our apartment. We were just going for a short, mid-week walk … but it turned into a colorful and delightful discovery!
We drove south towards the land jutting out into the North Sea, traveling as far as the public bus goes before it has to turn around. The road turns into a trail that continues past the turn-around, out towards views to the Sea, but it’s blocked for through traffic. We thought we’d walk to see how long it would take to reach the end, but a few moments after beginning our journey we saw a short path that had been widened and leveled with larger stones and rocks heading into the woods. Through the trees, we could see Ytredragsvågen, an inlet tucked between the rocks of “Mother Norway.”
The short path beckoned and looked inviting. And so, with no plans and just wanting to explore, we turned to the right.
Taking a few careful steps on the slippery rocks, we came to the end …
… and looking to the right, saw a narrow path winding down to the boat area of Ytredrangsvågen. Jan commented that the orange boat we could see was a fish farmer’s boat.
With the bit of rain that was falling it was admittedly a little treacherous with our mobility issues, but it wasn’t too far … so forge ahead I went. I stopped to snap a few images on the way to capture the inlet opening up to my left, and the boating area opening up in front of me. This wasn’t a pristine tourist area with shiny boats and easy-access docks; this was the evidence of real life, long days, and hard work.
It was low-tide. Stepping onto the pebbles I was amazed with the beauty of the patterns in the dead and living seaweed and plants clinging to the old boat launch …
… the muted yet vibrant hues of the stones …
… the color of the tide’s markings on the rock …
… and how the overall intimacy of such a small area mixed into something almost magical!
Instead of walking back up the path, I took advantage of the low tide and walked carefully on the pebbles and stones in the water, around the “Mother Norway” rock, and found myself on the beach area where runoff from the little stream through the woods cuts a path through the pebbles out to the water.
After admiring the view for a moment, I turned and felt as if I was entering a completely different part of Norway – time to head back up to the woods, towards the rocks that mark the end of the man-made level trail. I could see evidence of a long-ago avalanche, and the old moss that now covers the even older rocks. A few steps closer and I could see how the tiny stream/water run-off had carved its way down to the inlet’s waters …
… a few steps further I found an interesting angle of the moss covered ground, with the old pine tree roots and vegetation creating intriguing textures …
… and a pinecone; surprisingly, there weren’t too many of these little guys lying around, but the pine-needle covered ground gave a nice background to this lonely one …
I was captivated by the skinny and tall pine trees all around me, growing in the crevices of those old rocks displaced by that avalanche and reaching for the limited daylight. With shallow soil, dense rocks, and constant bathing of salt water, their trunks are narrow and I’m sure it’s a struggle to survive … but survive they do! I felt so awed and almost small as I looked up the lengths of their trunks towards the tops, with the old avalanche site barely visible through the trees …
It ended up being a very short walk, but very high on my growing list of photo-op moments … although to be fair, I don’t think there’s *anywhere* in Norway I’ve found that isn’t a photo-op moment!
(Here is where this part of the world is located on the map.)
How about you – have you ever headed out for a walk and ended up being happily distracted by something magical you’ve found? I’d enjoy reading of your experiences!
“There’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing” is a tired but oh-so-true saying that expresses the reality of living near an ocean in a mountainous area of the world.
It rings true for so many situations! If you only go outside when the temperature is above a certain point … or the sun is shining … or there isn’t a chance of getting wet … or when weather conditions are perfect for your own comfort, whatever that may be! … well, you’d never go out!
I’ve written before about being fogged in, and my last post from a week ago was the last time we saw any real sunshine for more than a quick glimpse through the clouds. I do like the cloud and fog patterns, and I enjoy walking in the rain, but as the shorter days continue their march towards December 21st the constant clouds and rain of the past week have washed all traces of snow away a long time ago, and have brought a dreariness to the short days that even candles aren’t helping to eliminate. (And let’s face it, although wine *would* probably help, I can’t go through winter half-blitzed!)
But life has to continue, even if it’s dark … so, for example, if you’re a construction worker, you keep building. When I open the sliding door to let MacKenzie out I can hear the sounds of hammers and saws drifting up from the new house being constructed just down the hill from us. Today during my wet and windy walk I thought to take a photo of the workers, merrily building during the short, dark, and rainy days!
(… not *quite* as beautiful a view as some of my other photos from this area!)
There are two workers in their bright orange rain suits; one is working on the roof, but the other one is behind the construction.
As much as I enjoy walking in the rain, I can’t imagine being outside working in it. I sure respect this country and their work ethic!
I enjoy the weather patterns of the mountains surrounding Bergen … but I find approaching storms exciting, and since moving to this mountainous area almost seven years ago, I miss seeing a storm front’s approach – or even just a “popcorn shower” off in the distance. The mountains change the patterns, or just plain block our view!
(Although, right now, a storm is approaching, and the strengthening sound of the wind whipping off the Norwegian Sea and blasting into my open window is pretty exciting!)
But while in Iowa last month I had two chances to grab a couple pics while we were traveling and had a “long distance view” of the sky over the flat mid-western U.S. landscape.
a storm cloud off in the distance
an intense storm approaching; it hit just as we were arriving at our destination,
and watching the leaves and tree branches dance across the road in front of us,
and feel the wind slamming into the car, was exhilarating … although my Dad, who was driving, probably didn’t feel the same way. 🙂
I have to admit it’s a little ironic that a Norwegian-Sea-fueled-storm is hitting just as I’m posting my I-miss-flat-US-storms thoughts … and now I need to turn off my computer, because the lightening is making our lights flicker!