SILENT GREY

Leaden clouds are pushing each other across the horizont, 

as if competing in some silent race. 

I immerse myself into winter darkness, 

trying to block out January's bleakness. 

Eyes glazing over ever so slightly, fluttering in the last effort to stay open. 

Then closing to the sound of pelting rain, letting daydreams come flying in. 

The warmth if fluttering thoughts and dreams carry me away to another place. 

Somewhere beyond the grey of clouds rain and winter winds. 

.............................

camera: nikon fm2n

film: kodak portra 400

© nicole sprekelmann

QUIET WINTER DAY

Wintertime is tea time, is time to quietly sit and reflect on the year that is coming to an end. 

I am sitting at the table, candles brightening a day that never even got light. The sky is

grey and full of rain, not willing to tell all those stories hidden in it's deep clouds. The light is 

slowly fading into darkness, another winter's day has passed without snow. 

.............................

camera: nikon fm2n

film: kodak portra 200

© nicole sprekelmann

A cup of cozy sunday

I wake up to a bleeping sound and the sound of raindrops against my windows. 

I had hoped to wake up to the soft silence of freshly fallen snow and a world

Caught up in magical glistening of softness all around. But i wasn't in luck this Sunday,

3rd advent. But even without the snow I was hoping for, a Sunday is a magical day.

It starts with a cup of coffee and soft music, some quiet moments spent slowly waking

up. It takes a while to focus, to wipe the sleep and strange dreams from my eyes. 

A strong coffe and some time later - minutes spent dreaming. 

I find myself thinking.

A Sunday should be made up of stolen 

seconds, minutes, hours.

Stolen from a dream, turned into some 

kind of reality of softest light, shadows and fabrics.

So I stole a second, a minute, an hour. I stole it to be with myself, 

lost in the here and now, but still far away. In that dream, 

in that soft light of this Sunday that faded away all too quickly. 

It was a Sunday of grays and tiny little rays of glistening sunshine peeking through.

A winter day filled with little tunes and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Laced with the musky

smell of old books and long forgotten words. 

 

 

 

Writing with light

 Catching the last rays of light some cold and rainy sunday afternoon. Holding a piping hot cup of freshly ground coffee brings back some warmth to my chilled bones. A weekend that was 

too short again, with so many things I didm't get around to will have to wait another week to

get done. Where did all those long Sundays of the past go, where one was lazing around for 

hours and still had plenty of time left for seeing friends, being creative, go for a ride or whatnot.

Nowadays my sundays seem to have less hours and are over in the blink of an eye. 

Well, never mind as long as I do get some alone time.

Never mind as long as I have some beautiful light streaming through my windows,

giving me the opportunity to shoot some, and to sit quietly at the table, sipping coffee,

just watching the light change ever so quickly. This time of year does have something magical,

something that brings a smile to my face for feeling all cozy and special. All this glistening

brings back wonderful memories of past winters, of long walks in the snow, of riding a sledge,

of soft music giving the perfect backdrop to beautiful moments.