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!
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!
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 …
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 …
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 …
… 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 …
… 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 …
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 …
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!
Jen’s Photo Challenge this week is Minimalist.
“Minimalist photography is characterized by a large portion of negative space, a fairly monochromatic color palette … and an interesting subject that is able to stand on its own to capture the interest of the viewer … A minimalist photo can also effectively tell a story, in spite of its relative simplicity, and it is anything but ‘plain’.”
I had fun looking through photos to find a few that fit this challenge, and decided to take the definition of “minimalist” apart and find images that fit specific qualities better, but still have the overall minimalist look. Does this one fit the description of “a large portion of negative space”?
I found two that I think are a good representation of “a fairly monochromatic color palette,” one with warm tones and the other with cool. Which do you prefer?
And then for the last one, “an interesting subject that is able to stand on its own to capture the interest of the viewer” … if you hadn’t already joined me vicariously on the journey, would this photo capture your curiosity as to what we were going to see?
Which photo is your favorite? And, if you’d like, share why it is!
Norway is huge, and there are thousands — millions? — of steep descents to be found. But as I was out for a walk today, I came to the “old road” and realized that it captures the essence of descent for my tiny part of this big country.
The old road has three sharp twists and turns. It’s no longer in use as a road since the mountain was dynamited and the main road was put in (which is still not wide enough for two cars in some places), but it’s used as a wide walking path, and my husband remembers riding on a bus on this twisting old road when he was a teenager in the late 1960’s … sitting in the back, “hanging” off the edge of the road.
We’ve had a lot of rain, and the run off from the roads, rocks, and mountain of this area created a musical accompaniment as it meandered next to and under the old road, and descended down towards the fjord.
You know the worse thing about descent? The ascent that comes after it to get home.
Obviously, my camera was out often, much to my labrador’s frustration. She wasn’t happy having to stop and wait for me every time I saw a new angle to capture through the lens!