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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
I’ve created a new wall calendar with photographs and reflections – Water Calendar 2026. Get it, as a Christmas present, or just for yourself.
In the 2026 calendar we meet magic moments, where water takes on golden colours, becomes a flowing jewel and shifts its shades like velvet fabric. We follow droplets as they mimic water living species, or is it the opposite? We encounter a river branching to cool down, watch dancing plumes and learn how dissolving clouds define our climate. We sense unexpected kinships, are lost in the moment and look at plants and water with new eyes.
Each image tells its own story – to an open heart and an enquiring mind. With the mind of a scientist and the heart of a poet, we journey into the mysteries of water.
The calendar is printed on demand by MagCloud on FSC paper and shipped directly to you.
Format 12″ x 12″ (30 x 30 cm). Spiral bound. Price: $19.95 + shipping