Let's talk about the darker days before Christmas

A village near the sea, grey and rainy days, an old renovated fishing cottage, ancestral furniture, dogs, candles. All topped with a fluffy mist....
This is my well being in the darker days before Christmas.

Of course I love light and sunshine, it makes the world so much brighter and we need it, but these darker days...... Every year again I am looking forward to them. I can't wait to lit my candles. To embrace the soft glowing light creating comfortable shadows and giving a warm glow to my furniture, maintained and loved by many generations before me. To listen to Bach, to read a book. To drink hot chocolate or Winter tea.

No, I do not live with ghosts from the pasts. Maybe it has to do with not always feeling comfortable in this modern world although I benefit from technology and improved health care too!
Often I crave for a more quiet world, less distractions, more simple. With more simple I mean more quiet, alone with your thoughts, less white noise. There is so much noise: traffic, plains, machines, radios.....  Living in a quiet village near the sea, is a blessing.

My former house, a renovated small farmhouse, was far more isolated although situated near a drive trough country road. At the back and the front no neighbours, just country views. I loved the house, it was comfortable and cosy. Still... in my new house I feel even more comfortable. More at home.
Last week I talked to my lovely neighbour about our mutual feelings for this village and the beautiful Wadden Sea. She and her husband moved here 35 years ago, she originates from Germany.
Even now she can get emotional talking about how wonderful it is to live here, which caused me 'wet eyes' when I agreed.

One of my ancestors owned a plot of land in a nearby fishing village. With my huge amount of Scandinavian DNA (the Vikings did not only ravaged the Friesian coast but also 'mingled' with members of the local population) it is not surprising that I feel so rooted here.
The current exhibition 'We Vikings' in the Friesian Musem in Leeuwarden is a 'must see' and on top of my list.

My DNA is used to long dark winters full of fires and stories to pass the time. I can imagine myself listening in front of a fire. My fantasy at work about elves, trolls, giant birds...... I love standing in the middle of nature, inhaling the cold air, watching the many stars we still see here, my feet guided by the night when walking the wet lands.
Genetic memories and reality.

Soon the Christmas tree will be up again. I respect our Dutch Sinterklaas but the very first Saturday after this wonderful festivity for children, the tree goes up. And already I am planning which changes I have to make to my sitting room to give it a prominent place. It will stay there for at least 4 weeks, spreading it's soft light. Adding to my home feeling.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema

I am also looking forward to the Christmas illumination of the village. There are so many old and beautiful cottages here. Often built close to the next one to shelter each other for the fierce cold wind from sea.
To hear the church bells in the 800 year old tower, wishing it could speak. Wishing it tells stories about all those Christmases it witnessed. In mostly hard times where people struggled to survive, but also happy times of new marriages, new born children.

The darker days before Christmas: simplicity and soft glows.....

Love,

Helen

Let's talk about the power of Autumn

Last night I stood on top of the dike near the sea and watched the light house beams kissing the waves. The strong wind embraced me, I felt happy and content.

The people who know me well, know how much I love Autumn.

Ever since I was a child, Autumn has been my friend. A friend that gives me energy, that fires my heart, that feeds me with expectations.

When I was 3 years young, we lived temporarily near the sea and although memories of that time are mostly vague, I still remember the sound of the sea, the scent and the light.
I remember that very day when there was a huge storm and I all of a sudden 'disappeared'.
My parents were devastated, a 3 year old little girl, gone, traceless.

But they knew me of course so well and had a pretty accurate guess of where I could be. A thorough search led to the toddler that walked on the beach, all on her own, in wind force 9 with her hands on her back, in perfect harmony with the elements, not understanding the hassle about her solitude promenade.

And I have not changed much. I still love the elements. I need them like we all need oxygen.
I need views, endless views whether it is near the sea, a lake, the fields or the hills.
I am occasionally called a Child of the North and I have always been proud of that name. My Scandinavian, Baltic and Celtic DNA (half of all my DNA) is so obvious.

I have spent Autumns in Scandinavia where I walked for hours through the forest, along the lakes. Where I sat still to listen.

Where Summer in Scandinavia can be warm and lazy, full of heavy scents of all those flowers blooming at once to celebrate the short period of constant light, Autumn is the time of year in which nature is busy preparing itself for a long dark, magical period called Winter.

The mushrooms flourish, berries turning flaming red, black or deep blue to provide food for animals and humans. The scent of mushrooms mingles with the scent of decaying leaves.
The sound of running mice, climbing squirrels, foraging bears, foxes, lynxes, deer and elks which all know now it is time to eat or store as much as you can.

Birds leave for warmer areas, birds stay or arrive to spend the Winter.

Photo: Ike Roelfsema Photography

The first mist spreading its voile over the lake, changing the forest into a magical place full of white and grey shadows, muffling sounds to whispers. Water drops falling from the trees, sound like little silver bells. These are all early Autumn sounds and so wonderful to listen to.

The first mist that lays its blanket over the sea, fading the transition between water and sky, adding soft pastels, soothing the water and sounds.

Then comes the first night frost which turns the small world into a fairytale with a crisp white layer where the Autumn colours glow underneath.
And nature comes to a hold. Only silence, a very deep silence that speaks more to me than any other sound. A silence I inhale, adopt, treasure.
A silence so close to true love. The love that makes you tremble with expectation, that opens up your heart, makes you mellow and soft. The love that you do not only keep in your heart but also in your hands, to offer it to whom this love is worthy, that very special person.

This special gift of Autumn lifts me up, makes me extremely happy.  I carry it with me, in my heart, my soul, my body.

Autumns other gift is its beautiful promise of Spring, a promise always kept, a promise never failing. Love that promise, hold it close to you, very close.

Love,

Helen

Johan Sebastian Bach: Concerto for 2 harpsichords, string and b.c. in
C minor BWV 1062 'Allegro assai'

Beautiful Moments

Please share my beautiful moments with me....

It is August, the rain is pouring down and leaves little drops like diamonds on the large window apposite me.
The wind moves the trees in a fast pace; green apples - still growing - dangle at their branches, not trying to give way to the wind.
I see the very first yellow leaves dwelling on the grass. Is this an early sign of Autumn or the drought of the past weeks?

Next to me the scented candle flickers in the antique glass and creates a cosy and comfortable atmosphere in the otherwise dark kitchen where I type my stories.
I listen to a beautiful CD which arrived with the post on Tuesday. A friend who knows how much I love classical music, sends me these CD's for which I am more than grateful.

Photo: Helen Varras

The first part of the CD I play over and over again as it touches my heart. It stirs an emotion I can not explain. It is encouraging, inspirational, beautiful, it comforts me. But at the same time it makes me feel small, a tiny human being in the universe. Above all it causes grateful feelings. I am alive, I have a life, I have a gift.

When I listen to this music, the world around me comes to a halt and every sense of me is aware of what I hear: Suite no. 3 in D-Major: part 2 'Air' Johan Sebastian Bach

Helen