where the light is

Love hurts

How many people walked through this lane and carved 

their love and pain in the wood?

After some time even the trees won't remember...

 

Click on the photographs to enlarge them.

in the forest of my youth

the grief of the forest (14)

the grief of the forest (13)

the grief of the forest (12)

Click on the photographs to enlarge them

the grief of the forest (11)

the grief of the forest (10)

the grief of the forest (9) about the life elixir of the birch

An old Finnish song describes how the birch complain and weep because the children steal their life elixir every spring. In the Scandinavian countries the birch was a sacred and magic tree, the tree of light and new life, who's spirit was considered to be a mature woman who appeared now and then from the roots.
For the Teutons it was the tree of wisdom, they thought that the leaves, twigs and the sap had magical and healing qualities.

The word birch means: white, bright, to shine. It is also called 'the Lady of the Forest' or 'the white Lady with the green veil'

The birch is a pioneer plant and can grow almost anywhere, but prefers swampy areas. In spring when the leaves come out the sapstream is most powerful, therefore if you cut them at this time of year it causes this eruption. Now you can get a glimpse of the process within the tree which is normally not visible. Maybe it is an attempt of the birch to reveal a little bit of her secret and to show her inner brightness just before it is gone.

In these woods where I come regularly a very large amount of trees were felled, not only the birch, but also the oak, the beech and the larch. 
Now, after a period of rain the magical white fluid has disappeared or has turned into orange. Walking through these empty spaces I wonder if the birds don't miss the trees in which they used to breed, but they sing just like any other spring. 

  

the grief of the forest (8)

the grief of the forest (7)

the grief of the forest (6)

the grief of the forest (5)

the grief of the forest (4)

the grief of the forest (3)

the grief of the forest (2)

the grief of the forest

the tree in late autumn

just happened to be there

self portrait September 2010

Last week I've been reading 'Op slot' (Locked) of the Dutch writer J.Bernlef which is about the friendship between a painter and a photographer. 

This novel contains beautiful phrases about painting and photographing and the making of a portrait. Like some photographers that I know and that includes me, the photographer in this book tends to speak about photography as if it were nothing. If anyone makes him a compliment considering his work he says: 'Well, I just happened to be there.'

By reading this book I remembered this photograph which I made more then a year ago. And I thought it may be time to post it here. 

the light of autumn (2)