Of course, it is nowhere near spring time just yet. While in Australia, we used the first day of a month to signal the change of seasons (our change to autumn is considered as March 1st), the first day of spring in the northern hemisphere is March 20th (sometimes March 21st) - the vernal equinox. But yesterday, after days of darkness and persistent snow, Mother Nature turned on one of her magical March days - blue, cloudless skies, dazzling sunshine with a hint of real warmth all reflected off a stunning, pure white landscape. It was a perfect day to be outside. So come take a small walk through the town with me.




Even the most ordinary and banal bits of town are transformed by the big drifts of snow covering everything and with the strong blue sky providing a contrast, it all looks so much more interesting. Even a simple hill and an almost buried staircase leading up to a block of flats seems exotic and intriguing on a rare sunny day like this.





I am always moved by the first spring songs of the birds who are returning from the warm southern countries and I feel so happy to have them back. Each day brings a new discovery as the diversity of the birdlife increases. Today I was certain that another of the migratory forest birds had returned when Lars-Göran spotted this little guy up a tree in the centre of town.




I was sure it must be a taltrast or song thrush. Goodness, did you check that poor bird's scientific name in the link? Turdus philomelos. Where oh where did they get "Turdus" from? And why am I still amused by this? Anyway, I thought spring must be surely about to break as these birds don't like the chill, preferring to winter in Spain like civilised birds. However, closer scrutiny showed that we were looking at the less civilised nötväcka or nuthatch. They choose to stay in Sweden for the winter and this one must have been out sunning itself like the rest of us.

Elsewhere around the streets, the snow ploughs have been busy and the footpaths on the corners have now disappeared under a literal mountain of collected snow.




I love it when the snow is still at this lovely, white, glittery phase. Depressingly, in a few short days, especially if the temperature rises a little above zero, it will start to melt and collect dust from the passing traffic and become big, slushy, dirty, unsightly muddy piles. Hopefully the trucks would have collected it all and taken it away by then. But for now I can walk around in the blazing sunlight and say "Wow!" "Pretty" and "Gosh, I love snow". The sun is so bright today that I am sporting my sunnies along with the obligatory scarf, hat, gloves, boots and thick, down-filled winter coat. But the light reflecting off of the buildings in the main street gives an added depth and warmth to the rich colours.




As is typical in European towns, the centre of the place is still very much alive. They don't seem to separate the commercial from the residential areas. Instead, the ground level areas house businesses (in the above picture it is one of the banks and a real estate office, with apartments above. There are always people around and it is a safer feeling walking around here after hours than in the deserted commerecial hearts of Australian cities. While I personally would not want to live right in the heart of the town like this, I can see that it is great for those who like to be close to everything and in the hub of all that is going on.

But you are never far from a sense of peace and space. Just across the road, you see this:




Perched high on it's own hill, with a panoramic view from the front across the harbour area, the rustic weathervane on the spire glittering in the sun, it looks like it is in it's own little isolated world. But that picture is deceptive as the church in Nynäshamn is in the centre of town, in the heart of our community here. Likewise when you study the picture of the building on the other corner.




This looks like a manor house or a mansion somewhere in the country. Perhaps when it was first built sometime in the late eighteenth century, it was a family home for a wealthy citizen. Hmm... something to ask about at the library's archives when I pop in again. However, these days, the upper floors are apartments, with a dentist housed in one area and a popular restaurant on the ground level. I like it when they utilise the existing structure for something useful rather than simply calling in the bulldozers - we have already lost a lot of the irreplacable essence of this town thanks to decades of short-sighted and questionable "town planning" decisions by people who ought to know better. I weep when I look at what they have done to centrum. Nåväl. It's too beautiful a day to fret about it.

Next stop was the local park at Svandammen.




You can see the church from here, standing proudly on the hill. There is no sign of the grass, buried under a couple of feet of snowflakes, nor of the pond that is the hub of birdlife in this area. You can see that the walking path is freshly ploughed, with walls of snow piled up on each side and that the bare, snow laden trees are reaching up towards the life giving sun.

A quick cut across the park, then over the railway line down to the small boat harbour to see how the boats are faring.




As you can see, the snow is sparkling like a sea of diamonds or as though Tinkerbell has flown by sprinkling everything with glittery fairy dust. There really is no prettier sight. The snow is covering the ice now almost up to the level of the pier itself. This little sailing boat looks as though it is covered and snuggled up in a soft quilt. The silence is so complete. In the background, a lone bird flies through the warm afternoon sun and you feel as though you want to set off and take a short walk across the snow covered ice to the island of Trehörningen (literally "The triangle") over the water. What a wonderful view they have every day. And how lucky I am to live in this beautiful place.