The Longest Day

The day has to be long. How else can we experience the richness and diversity that solstice offers.
The song of the nightingale, the beautiful tones of the thrush and the song of the chaffinch over our heads. Just to name a few.

The first dew in the grass is short-lived. The sun makes the dew fly away in an almost invisible haze.

The fresh air. The scent of bog and the endless amounts of blueberry rice.
The berries, the fine sweetness that fills the mouth and paints the tongue blue and then the laughter over a sudden transformation.

The beloved cottongrass waves at us with its white tousled head and brings back memories of a wonderful Norway.

We look fascinated at the flying skill of the dragonfly. So close to the water without touching.
And then suddenly a meandering motion reveals a snake’s journey in the water.

The experiences are endless, and it is only when we run out of meals that we reluctantly go home.

Happy Midsummer ❤️

6 thoughts on “The Longest Day

    • Thank you, Anita. Cotton Grass always make me happy due to great memories and new plans.
      The picture of the Cotton Grass is from a bog near by my home. We had a glorious day out and about two days ago.
      My memories is from mountain lakes in Norway 🙂
      All the best,

  1. Wonderful summer pictures, Hanna! It is a strange thought that in the midst of summer we are heading back to winter. But winter is not on my mind yet. It’s very sunny over here and warm. The green is lush as in your country, birds all over the place, butterflies, you name it. And in an hour or so a concert of Guns and Roses in our city park, not especially summer-like, apart from the roses perhaps, but still a happy event, that I even might be able to enjoy a little in my tiny city garden. 🙂

    • Thanks a lot, Peter! This time of year is wonderful and I must say that winter isn’t the first thing that comes to my mind either
      Funny you should mentions the roses in the park where Gun N’ Roses is giving a concert 😀
      Gun N ‘Roses sounds like Gunnar’s Roses in Danish, so they are never called anything else in our house 😀
      It’s ingenious that you can hear the band from your little garden 👏 Wish you a great evening!!

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