Spring & Summer 2026
Spring winds
The word spring winds has long been used as more than a meteorological description. In Nordic tradition, they were seen as bearers of change – a movement that set both nature and humans into transition. In the past, people spoke of spring winds “opening the earth,” because the ground began to breathe and spread scent when the air was set in motion.
Research also shows that gentle winds actually help plants to strengthen: when stems move, stronger tissue develops. In this way, the spring winds shape the landscape, not through force, but through repetition and presence. Spring winds are thus not just a feeling – they are a quiet co-creator of life.
The texts included are Erik Axel Karlfeldt’s poem Mot Våra taken from the book Wilderness and Love Songs from 1895. The poem is public domain.
The images in the catalogue were photographed at Dammsjön and Högkulla in Solvarbo, Dalarna.
When the meadow, the waterlogged one,
has received its first ducklings
and the cranberries lie there soft
and shift in red and blue,
then I open gate and door,
which were closed against the winter before,
for the chambers become too difficult for me,
as soon as it approaches spring.
I want, like Noah from the ark,
to step out onto the drying earth
and light in the wilderness
an offering of blazing words.
Like doves with olive branches
draw gray geese northward,
and in their airy path
scatter our glittering golden grain.
Now my blood simmers like the water of the streams,
flowing calm and cool.
Now, like the owl in the night, it calls out
to the long-silenced pain.
It is as if every seed of melancholy
has gained strength from the spring thaw,
and the memories feel so heavy
whenever it draws near to our time.
Hear the buzzing of the cuckoo’s drone
and the larks’ little chorus!
Hear the bellowing ox and heifer,
longing for the wild life!
Now the twigs and handles are twisted,
now the boats and planks are tarred;
there’s hard work and tidying up
to honor the lovely spring.
Soon the fields and meadows will turn green,
soon the garden and the meadow will bloom,
and the girl searches for violets
to scent beside her bed
and sighs with a sorrowful whisper
and smiles as if in a dreamy trance –
for the girls then become too difficult,
as soon as it approaches spring.
Spring winds
Spring winds move quietly through the landscape, more like a reminder than an event. They carry movement without weight, changing the world with a gentle hand. They sweep across the ground, through the crowns of trees, and along open spaces where light takes hold. Everything that grows seems to respond to them instinctively, as if the air itself knows where it is going.
Spring winds open up space. They find their way into bodies and thoughts, dissolving what has stood still, creating space for breath and new directions. They linger in the steps we take, in the gaze that is raised, in the feeling of presence. They carry with them the scents of earth and life, of beginnings and possibility. They touch the world without demanding anything in return.
Spring winds promise nothing. They explain nothing. But in their movement there is a quiet certainty: that everything is already underway.