Den blå hagen på Huseby

Greens for a soup

text and images britt-arnhild

Every year the miracle happens. Green sprouts, perfect for the kitchen. The first brennesle (Latin-urtica) are up. I pick what I find.

Will it be enough for soup for four?

On hands and feet

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On hands and feet for a couple of hours. Now I can feel every single one of my 54 years!
It feels good.
And the garden rejoice with me.

 

Here I am God,
kneeling before You.
Examine my heart God,
show me Your will.

Here I am Lord,
joyful before You.
Reveal my need Lord,
show me Your will. 
Mary Fleeson 

 

Green house opening

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This is the first spring in my 54 year old life that I have a green house. It is without heathing though, so it has its limits. Still, it is spring and it is my green house.
It is heaven!

Peek inside. It looks charming, doesn´t it?

Garden dreams.

Sping, sprang, sprung!

text and images britt-arnhild

When you live in a part of the world which is covered in snow almost half the year, spring is a new beginning. Every year is like waking up from a long Cinderella sleep.

Every year I am impatience to see more flowers, have warmer temperatures, for summer to come. At the same time I want every spring minute to last an eternity.

For months the garden has been white. White dreams. Dreams of a spring, a summer, an autumn to come. The circle of the year. The perfect circle.

Most of the snow has melted now, and every morning I am out to seek spring.

Spring. Sprang. Sprung.

Spring.

The season to fall in love.