One can get confused of the colors outside. The greyest tree, going to the winter´s sleep had pink dots hanging like strangers in its branches. Tree, the winter is coming and you cannot scare it away with your beautiful colors. On Tuesday it might be snowing. Or not.
A weekend of my favorite radio host playing records. A weekend of an inspiring lecture by Halldór Úlfarsson and the instrument he is building. A weekend of street musicians. A girl playing in winter clothes, picking strings and singing. A bit further a boy and a bagpipe. A bit more further a boy and a guitar. Happy home-coming of pedaling.
The most fragile, still very strict handwriting of my grandmother in a postcard thanking for remembering her 90-years birthday in the summer.
Now brushes, paper and watercolors. A bit of the cold wind through a closed window. Later bicycling up a hill of colorful wooden houses.
How has your weekend been?
Apple pie and tea,