lizardek's obiter dictum lizardek Home Now Then Friends Info Ek Family
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A brisk perambulation at sundown, of an evening, a fine and flowering evening, in Flyinge. The sun was a huge orange ball o'fire aglow in the west. Between it and me the tall trees of the crow party loomed, a giant's spiky picket fence. I could see all the crow's nests, way up high. As I walked down the snail trail, the air cooled off and the crows became agitated at my presence even with their secure distance up in the treetops. RAWK! they all screamed, and they flapped and fleaped** from nest to branch and back again.

The white stars of wood anemone were sprinkled amidst the greenery and across the sluggish creek was a woodsy waterlogged bottom meadow peppered with buttercups. Aside from the crows, everything was still. The wind, which assails Skåne from all sides most days, had died and little summer insects were drifting about, in no hurry.

I love the spring, when everything is new again and everywhere you look something is opening, budding, or putting forth. It never bores me, never tires me, never wears me out. I walk and walk, glancing to left, to right, and each thing I see, each new growth, flowers inside my mind as well, with a tag attached for memory. "Remember this," my brain whispers as I walk. Remember this. The neon-green pearl-seed-button tips on the evergreens. The tiny pearly-purpled peppercorn-sized juniper berries. The dusty raspberried-pendant not-yet-blossoms dangling like swinging earrings from a purple beech. The fuzzy-caterpillars of green and white blossoms on the willows. The burbling liquid trill of a blackbird that came from everywhere at once, as if the very air itself were singing.

All around me flowers were closing down for the evening, their working hours over. Sorry, bees, välkommen åter.


A family birthday here at home tomorrow, then choir, then book group, then sushi night, all followed by a family-free 2-day weekend of deep, deep spring-cleaning. Bet you're looking forward to THAT post! Ah, the smell of cleanser in the morning!

Great Big Gobs of Happy Birthday Wishes for My Darling Swede-y, Anders!

Wild, Warm and Wonderful Birthday Wishes Present, to PaperNapkin Sheryl, and Past to big_bubba!

*Stephen Wright
mood: mellow
music: REM—Pretty Persuasion


I didn't know anything about Flyinge, so I was reading about it on Google. Do you take part in any of the famous horse-related events? I see that Flyinge is home to The National Stud of Sweden! Can't go wrong with that.


Re: Flyinge

Heh. No, we don't take part in any of the famous horse-related events except to curse the traffic during those weekends. I love having all the horses around town, except for the part where they attract FLIES. The stables are really wonderful, and there is a Stork project there as well, which makes me all happy every time I see them. There are signs up on the village road directing people to the "Hingstdepå; which means The Stallion Depot, that always makes me laugh.

The stables has everything horse-related one could wish for, if one has to do with horses, including a riding/horse school, a veterinary school, all the different riding disciplines, etc. Our babysitter rides dressage there, and was nearly an alternate on the Olympic team in Australia. :)

Get out! Anders and I have the same birthday? No wonder you feel like kin :o)

I know! You're birthday twin-kies!


What beautiful springtime writing! I love the idea of the air itself singing. Happy birthday to Anders - I'm sure it was a great family celebration. Now, everyone, go clean!


Yay for walking in the springtime! No better way to feel a part of it. :)


lizardek-not-a-man, "a crow party" is so true. They gather in hundreds, if not thousands sometimes, and make a lot a noise. I like these birds, but so many people don't. Poor birds with a bad reputation. (Hello.)


Re: Crows

Hello to you, too! :D

We've actually seen men with shotguns rambling around the snail trail, which is a little dirt path that runs between the woods in which the crows live. They are REALLY loud. We can hear them all the way to our house, which, granted, isn't THAT far. I pity the people who live under them, though. The crows never shut up.

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lizardek's obiter photos
lizardek's obiter photos

Feeling generous? Be my guest!

I can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Abraham Lincoln

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