Photo of Zelda the dog looking sad in her pink harness. Behind her the setting sun shines in through a gap between the clouds and the distant treeline reflecting of the water in a flooded field.
Color image of an artisan's handmade stained glass suncatcher in the window of a residence in Bath Township, Summit County, Ohio, USA, 7 February 2026, as the morning sun outside tries to warm the snow-covered world outside above its 5 F (-16 C) morning temperatures. Image shows a suncatcher with the sun depicted in the glass as wearing sunglasses and radiating panels in yellow, orange, gold, blue, red, purple and magenta against a backdrop of a yard covered in a foot - 32 cm - of snow.
First day of February 2026 First Sunday of the Month💕
Have a blessed Sunday people of #Mastodon & the #Fediverse Hope you all are well & Safe from dangers & harm wherever in the Globe you are.🙏🫂 Be Kind & Stay Safe.
Calendar page February 2026 with my acrylic painting Happy Tuxed Cat - A black and white Tuxedo cat stands in front of a dreamy abstract background in various shades of blue and gazes curiously upwards. Soft, loose, abstract brushstrokes create a sense of depth and movement around the cat. The cat's tail is raised in a curved shape.
Happy Tuxedo Cat is an acrylic painting in portrait format hand-painted by the artist Karen Kaspar.
Brigid is associated with blacksmiths, spring, and cattle, among other things, and stories like blinding herself to repel men's unwanted attention. The three-armed cross here represents both the triple goddess and the trinity. Lá Fhéile Bríde shona daoibh 🌸
Drawing of Brigid in greyscale, holding a three-armed cross, with a drawing of a flaming anvil over one shoulder and a drawing of horns and flowers over the other one.
Wetteranalyse: Die vollständig gestörte Zirkulation und der eisige Winter im Februar
Es ist wieder Sonntag und Zeit für eine ausführliche Wetteranalyse. Über Skandinavien baut sich das Blockadehoch auf, welches sich bereits vor 14 Tagen in der Clusteranalyse abzeichnete (78 Prozent Blockade nördliche Breiten). Dieses Blockadehoch schwächt den Polarwirbel zusätzlich und dreht nebenbei die Grundströmung über Deutschland auf Ost, sodass unter bestimmten Voraussetzungen eisig kalte Luftmassen aus Sibirien nach Deutschland geführt werden können. Tiefdruckgebiete stören jedoch diesen Prozess und so kann es über Deutschland auch zu einer Grenzwetterlage (Wackelwinter) kommen. Verstärkt sich das Blockadehoch und geht eine Querverbindung zum Aleutenhoch ein, kommt bis Februar der klirrend kalte Hochwinter nach Deutschland. Bricht das Hoch hingegen zusammen, kann ein Warmstart in den Februar gelingen. Viele Fragen, viele Möglichkeiten - beginnen wir mit der Analyse.
This morning, I spelled out the word October, and for some reason—despite having spelled it at least 23 times in the last 23 days—I thought, “That doesn’t look right.” I second-guessed myself and searched for confirmation. Once again, the mind proves to be a very strange place to live.
I’ve never had trouble with October before, but February has been a lifelong adversary. That first “r” always trips me up. Though, to be fair, I spelled it correctly just now, so perhaps “forever” is too strong a word. Often or usually might be more accurate.
Another word that historically gives me trouble is Wednesday. And yes, I needed spellcheck to get it right this time. I mean—what’s up with that first “d”? Where did it come from?
Curious, I looked it up. Wednesday comes from the Anglo-Saxon Wōdnesdæg, named after the god Wōden—Woden’s Day. So apparently, back in the long-ago olden days, the “d” was actually pronounced. I’d never heard of Woden before, but his name is akin to Odin, the Norse god.**
I wondered: Is Woden the same as Odin? As you might expect, I looked it up. And yes—Woden and Odin are essentially the same mythic figure, expressed through different cultural lenses.
Hmm... I meant to write about something else entirely. Something about the drama of humans, which feels so small when you consider we’re just tiny creatures floating on a speck of dust in the vastness of the cosmos. But then came the self-doubt of October.
“Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will.” — Suzy Kassem
“The difference between a mountain and a molehill is your perspective.” — Al Neuharth
“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be crazy by those who could not hear the music.” — Friedrich Nietzsche
"The scene unfolds at twilight, where the sky melts from deep orange into dusky violet, casting a warm hush over the landscape. A forested silhouette stretches across the horizon, its treetops forming a jagged, shadowy crown beneath the fading light. Nestled near the water’s edge are several softly illuminated buildings—perhaps cabins or lakeside lodges—whose golden lights shimmer like lanterns in the dusk. These lights ripple across the lake’s glassy surface, creating elongated reflections that dance gently with the water’s subtle movement.
The lake itself is calm, almost meditative, with only a few faint ripples and scattered shapes—possibly birds or floating leaves—dotting the foreground. The entire composition feels like a held breath, suspended between day and night, nature and habitation. The image is signed “Swede’s Photographs” in the top right corner, a quiet signature to a tranquil moment. The contrast between the natural darkness of the trees and the warm artificial glow of the buildings evokes a sense of peaceful coexistence—an invitation to linger in the stillness." - Microsoft Copilot
To the park, and back. Great tits crossed my path. Waved back, and forth, with a little kid. Heard a blackbird. The smiles for people, be they floral or faunal, have a tendency to shine even through dark grumpiness.