When we woke this morning, our world had turned white, with drapes of mist swirling around the garden and nearby fields like the edges of a ghostly cloak. It was the most surreal feeling to sit at the window and watch the trees disappear, then reappear like ghostly skeletons swaying against the sky, and the linden leaves raining dewdrops like honey in the park. I imagined the cool moist air would be so refreshing, so out into the mist we went. Which was not easy when you own a dog who is in touch with her inner chicken!




I have no idea why she has become such a scaredy cat. I know she is now totally deaf (something else that happened this year), but we thought her other senses may now become stronger. All it seems to have done is made her afraid of her own shadow. And skittering autumn leaves. And I guess we can add fog to that list.

Eventually she was convinced to walk and follow the path down to the wetlands, through the misty meadows.




The trees are nearly bare now, adding a starkness to the scene. Even so, it is beautiful here in the mornings. There is a sense of serenity, as though you are enveloped and cocooned from the world and the air is so fresh that you want to reach out and touch it.




Near the wetlands, spider’s webs glistening with drops of dew plus the muted, fading late autumn colours are enhanced by the swirling mists. The water on the lake looks very calm and cold and the colour and feel of the water is soft and mild. The elegant swan pair came gliding out through the mist and the whole scene had a very ethereal, dream like quality. I almost expected to see The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite holding aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Marie, was to carry Excalibur....




Or maybe I better lay off that late evening glass of Calvados...

Shortly, the world began to wake for the day and the air was filled with the chattering of tiny birds. The reeds along the waterway are bursting with fossicking birdlife and we saw many swiftly darting shapes flit here and there. These little forest birds are so difficult to photograph as they rarely stand still for more than a second, so you have to be quick or very lucky.




This is a blåmes or blue tit. At only 10cm tall, they are much smaller than the common garden sparrows we see. You can usually distinguish them from the other tits by looking for their quite distinctive blue cap and the little zorro mask it has across its eyes. They are amazingly agile little creatures and you can see them hanging from almost any angle, while they busily ferret out food. These birds stay in Sweden all winter (crazy or what?) and in harsh winters, great numbers of them used to die, though these days, people put out sunflower seeds and suet balls to help supplement the meagre natural food supply.

I want to get a proper feeding table set up at home so we can compete with Dave both help them and be able to observe them more closely.




It is so still now that it is hard to believe they are forecasting gale winds later in the day. At the moment, the trees and bullrushes are reflected perfectly in the water, with hardly a ripple to disturb the surface. All that would be nice is if the sky was blue and a little sun peeped through. But then we wouldn't have the November morning fog wrapping itself around us in billows and swirls and nebulous clouds. Can't have it all.




We spent today doing errands in Nyköping as well as getting our car inspected for the first time. Every vehicle in Sweden needs to be tested each year to ensure that it complies with at least the minimum road safety and environmental standards. And unless it passes, you cannot insure or register your car. As our little baby is newish, he passed with flying colours, so as dusk settled (as it does very early these days) we could head back home to Oxelösund. The sky is darkening and the wind is picking up, so it will be nice to get inside our warm, cosy apartment. Twilight skies seem to go on and on forever in autumn with sumptuous colours of rose, gold and purple. It's a very special kind of light.




I love the wildlife you see here and there in a country town. A simple trip to the shop can be made much more interesting when there is a chance of running across a roe deer, a badger or a fox or my favourites - hedgehogs! While the deer are beautiful and very elegant, they make me wary. A lot of our roads are adjacent to open fields or wooded areas and already once last week we almost hit a deer which came darting out of the trees and across the path of the car. Fortunately, L-G still has quick reflexes and we stopped in time and waited for it to bound away, but I nearly had a heart attack!




As the wind increased, L-G couldn't resist going out to see the view from the harbour where we moor the boat in summer. At home and in the main town square, the wind was howling and I could hardly keep upright (this was before the evening glass of shiraz, by the way...). But you would hardly know it from down by Ljungholmen, which was in lee and looking like a peaceful sepia study crowned with skeletal whiskery trees and the bright orb of the moon.