Water Calendar - a journey into the Mysteries of Water

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Water Calendar 2027

What if we could take some moments to reconnect with those magic moments in nature? Some moments each day, in the midst of the everyday buzz.

That is why I created Water Calendar, to convey that magic, that curiosity, that emotional connection with nature – some moments, each day.

A magical calendar to hang on the wall, or to follow on the web, connecting with nature in those everyday moments that just passes by.

So I embarked on a journey into the mysteries of water – with the mind of a scientist and the heart of a poet.

In the 2027 calendar we join the water droplets’ dance, observe a luminiferous wave and meet an artistic swan creating impressionist images out of water. Thoughtful, we ponder the rising seas and meet aristocratic stones in the midst of turmoil.

Can you guess which month is which?

We also encounter million-year-old steps, absorbe the vibrations of a waterfall and get a glimpse of Alp water’s secrets. Having met a pond leaf resting in the moment, we see clouds grope for the void and let water dissolve our impressions.

Each image tells its own story – to an open heart and an enquiring mind.

Get Water Calendar 2027, for yourself or for a friend, hang it on the wall, and join the journey into the mysteries of water!

/Lasse Johansson

Get water calendar as a wall calendar here

October 2026 – Water and climate

Clouds drifting off the coast at dawn. View from Orust island, at the west coast of Sweden. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Surrounded by mist, the tree covered ridges sleep across the water. Almost completely wrapped in clouds, the coast is waiting for the day to come. Slowly, slowly, the sun rises in the north-east, tinting the low-hanging clouds pink. Pale and yellow, gazing through the haze, it rises, starting to heat up the air, its heat being almost indiscernible.

September 2026 – Vessels of water

Pine trees at the desert border. El Teide National Park, Tenerife. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Vessels of water, reaching for the sky, supported by wooden containers. Scarce is the ration the desert soil supplies, but the pine trees have learnt to extend it. The long needle leaves gather diligently, whatever moisture the mist of the morning breeze, brings from the sea.

August 2026 – Glowing

Morning magic at the islands. Orust, Sweden. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Glowing, all the orange of the early morning meets my eyes. A mirror of molten metal, it seems. The forest has imprinted its foggy mark on the melt. Such moments seem as precious as the gold they imitate. Or is the imitation just the other way around?

July 2026 – The dancing plumes

Dancing plumes from irrigation sprinkler — Plumes of water emerging from an irrigation sprinkler. Lärjedalen gardens, outside Gothenburg, Sweden. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Swish, swish, swish, I have to run to escape the plumes of water cascading round and round over the small field. Innumerable water droplets journey together, upwards, upwards, then turning, falling, dissolving into a cloud of rain. Down below, the garden plants gratefully receive the life-giving water drops, capturing the droplets with their leaves. Some droplets continue, trickling down onto the bare umber soil underneath, wetting the soil and darkening it. Seeking its way into the hollows, seeping down, absorbed by the clayey, colloid substance that forms the fertile topsoil.

June 2026 – Winding its way

Winding jetty at Slussen. Orust, Sweden. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Winding its way out into the water, like a serpent. The wooden posts mark the limits of the motion, as if to constrain the jetty from winding. Man has left his puddled imprints on the planks. Just for a moment, until they evaporate – leaving no traces, as if the path on the jetty had never been trodden.

May 2026 – A shifting blue

Pond at spring. Borup, Sweden. Photo: Lasse Johansson

A shifting blue, in a sprouting green. Water cannot quite settle on what shade to choose. I see it try one hue after another – like a girl pulling roll after roll of fabric from the shelves of a store. A single rock and some patches of dry yellow grass frame the velvet blue – making the outfit complete.

April 2026 – The branching river

Branch in river Rönne — Branching in the river Rönne, Sweden. To the left a small island has formed in the river. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Under the trees, the river flows silently. Meandering in the shade, the water looks dark and cool. As the eyes get used to the dim light, the dense undergrowth can be discerned at the banks. Slowly, the canoe drifts along, the banks of the river come to meet, and then fall away behind.

Now a small overgrown bank appears, dividing the river for a moment, quickly followed by another. The branches of the grey alder trees reach down to the river surface, almost touching it. After a turn, the river broadens somewhat, and a small archipelago opens up. The sun glimmers at the centre of the stream. A branch divides to the right, flowing for some 50 meters, then joining the main body of water again. After a while the river seems to narrow again, making a left turn, now flowing as a whole again.

What causes the branching of the river?

March 2026 – Swing, swing, swing, swing

Water swinging in drop channel. Augustenborg, Malmö, Sweden. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Swing, swing, swing, swing. From side to side, water is swinging as it flows along. Born out of the little drop channel, the spontaneous swinging flow emerges effortlessly, right out of the conditions, self-organizing. A never ending play, with unevitable ease, orchestrated by none.

February 2026 – Splash

Waves striking rock wall. Los Gigantes, Tenerife. Photo: Lasse Johansson

Splash. Cascading water strikes the rock wall – and returns in a myriad of droplets. Another wave is on its way, ready to deliver its full force. The growing palms observe, silently. Their fractal shape suggests a kinship to the cascading spectacle. Though each motion has a time scale of its own.

January 2026 – Ink droplets falling in water

Umbrella shaped ink droplet — Slowly sinking umbrella shaped ink droplet, like a primitive octopus. Photo(s): Lasse Johansson

Like an octopus. The ink pattern slowly takes on a distinct resemblance in my mind. Evolving slowly, from the ink droplet I sent into the water. Sinking, second by second, the shape is shifting, now taking this form, now that. Another shot, and I see a jellyfish.

Water’s inherent tendency to form patterns can be observed as simply as with ink droplets falling into water. Preferably in a container with flat walls. The impact of the droplet creates vaulting toroidal forms, vortexes resembling jellyfish, and finally, when the motion slows down, settles into sinking octopus-like forms.

December 2025 – With a cascade

Rapid in Rettenbach. Bad Ischl, Austria. Photo: Lasse Johansson

With a cascade of white foam, water plunges down the fall, into the greenish pond below. Large hollow pots of stone flank the little river. Over the years, water has slowly dissolved the soft limestone rock, carving out the deep ravine. Viscous and cold, the Alp water’s secrets await to be explored.