The Death and the Hawthorn

This story about the hawthorn trees is probably one of the most interesting discoveries I’ve stumbled upon while blogging. I have passed the hawthorn trees at the gate at Taarbæk several times, but without knowing the secret they hide.

This is my encounter with the secret several years ago:

I do not consider myself superstitious, but a week ago I was susceptible to the bizarre entertainment.

It all began with a stroll in the Deer Park on a field where Hawthorn represents itself in a large number. It was an amazing sight. Starry flowers gathered in endless white dome-shaped clouds buoyed by the ancient gnarled and wrinkled trunks.

The Eremitage Hawthorn

I Goggled the Hawthorn, when I got home. I found that the Hawthorn on that particularly field is unique. It has crossed spontaneously with the single-seeded Hawthorn one and a half kilometers away at the gate down to Taarbæk. The trees stand close here. and they grow on a mass grave. Yes, you got it right.

People died during the cholera epidemic in Copenhagen in 1853, 4750 humans to be precise. Those who weren’t infected yet drove the victims on carts from Copenhagen to Taarbæk. They built a chapel and buried the poor people in a mass grave inside the Deer Park. To prevent the spread of infection from the graves the single-seeded Hawthorn, with its needle-sharp long thorns kept people and animals away from the graves.
It aroused my curiosity and imagination. It was fascinating, and at the same time it also gave pause for thought. It is only a short time ago an Ebola epidemic was raging in Africa. Epidemics are always to be taken seriously.

The other day I visited the burial site. I went there late in the afternoon. It had just rained, it was cloudy and there was a gloomy atmosphere over the place. Maybe I needed a rest, or maybe it was my encounter with the woman that influenced me.
Suddenly she was in front of me. Where did she come from? She was white-haired and pale. The eyes were dark and strangely tinned at the same time. She looked right through me and I stepped aside or she would have walked into me on the narrow path.
A few hours earlier, I had read several stories about farmers forbidding the cutting of hawthorn. Cutting down a hawthorn means disaster for animals and people, and the old superstition is alive and well.
I wondered if photography was a no go given the many legends and myths surrounding the trees.
I took the chance and found a few motifs, after which I happily left the burial site.
I was unusually tired when I got home and I attributed it to the long day I had.

At night I woke up with severe pain in my stomach. Yet I managed to fall asleep again.
Next morning I had fever and abdominal cramps something that is quite unfamiliar to me. I was very tired and slept all the time. When the illness was at it’s worst I thought of the cholera victims and the woman I had met. I had to pull myself together, luckily I had a very plausible explanation for my illness.

At long last, my health improved and I have been out there again. The sun was shining through the trees, and tourists walked down from the cozy Taarbæk. There were no trace of the woman I met the last time.

The pictures ended with that warm evening light they deserve.
Despite my story I will always think of the field with the Eremitage-Hawthorn as the romantic harbinger of spring ❤️

Eremitage Hawthorn

Hvidtjørnen og Døden

Denne historie om hvidtjørnetræerne er nok en af de mest interessante opdagelser, jeg er stødt på, mens jeg har blogget. Flere gange har jeg passeret tjørnetræerne ved porten ved Taarbæk, men uden at kende hemmeligheden de gemmer på.

Her er fortællingen om min oplevelse for flere år siden:

Jeg anser ikke mig selv for overtroisk, men for en uge siden var jeg alligevel modtagelig for den bizarre underholdning.

Det hele begyndte med en vandring på Hvidtjørnesletten i Jægersborg Dyrehave i maj måned. Det var et fantastisk syn, der mødte mig. Stjerneklare blomster samlede sig i endeløse hvide kuppelformede skyer holdt oppe af de ældgamle krogede og furede træstrammer.

Jeg googlede hvidtjørnen, da jeg kom hjem. Det viste sig, at hvidtjørnen på Sletten er unik. Den har krydset spontant med en engriflet tjørn, der står halvanden kilometer væk ved porten ned til Taarbæk. Træerne står tæt her. og de er plantet på en massegrav. Ja, I læste rigtigt.

Der døde 4750 mennesker under koleraepedimien i København i 1853. En stor del af dem blev kørt på kærrer fra København op til Taarbæk. Her byggede man et kapel og begravede de mange mennesker i en massegrav inde i Jægersborg Dyrehave. For at undgå spredning af smitte fra gravene plantede man den engriflede tjørn, der med sine sylespidse lange torne holdt folk og dyr væk fra gravene.

Det vækkede min nysgerrighed og fantasi. Det var fascinerende, og på samme tid gav det også stof til eftertanke. Det er kun kort tid siden en Ebola epidemi rasede i Afrika. Epidemier skal tages alvorligt.

Forleden besøgte jeg gravpladsen. Jeg tog derud en sen eftermiddag. Det havde lige regnet, det var overskyet, og der herskede en dyster atmosfære over stedet.

Måske var jeg træt, eller også var det mit møde med kvinden, der påvirkede mig.

Hun stod pludselig foran mig. Hvor kom hun fra? Hun var helt hvidhåret og meget bleg. Øjnene var mørke og sært fortinnede på samme tid. Hun så ret igennem mig, og jeg veg til side, ellers var hun gået ind i mig på den smalle sti.

Nogle timer forinden havde jeg læst adskillige historier om bondemænd, som til stadighed forbyder at fælde hvidtjørnen. Det betyder ulykke over dyr og mennesker, og den gamle overtro lever i bedste velgående.

Jeg spekulerede over, hvor vidt fotografering indgik i de mange sagn og myter, der eksisterer omkring træerne.

Eremitage- Hvidtjørn

Jeg tog chancen og fandt flere motiver, hvorefter jeg med glæde forlod gravpladsen. Jeg var ualmindelig træt, da jeg kom hjem, og jeg tilskrev det den lange dag, jeg havde haft.

Om natten vågnede jeg med stærke smerter i maven. Det lykkedes mig dog at falde i søvn igen.

Næste morgen havde jeg feber og mavekramper noget, der er ganske uvant for mig. Jeg var meget træt og sov hele tiden. Da det var værst et par dage senere, tænkte jeg på koleraofrene og kvinden, jeg havde mødt. Jeg måtte tage mig selv i nakken, for heldigvis havde jeg en meget plausibel forklaring på min sygdom.

Nu har jeg fået det så godt, at jeg har været derude igen. Solen skinnede varmt mellem træerne, og turister kom gående nede fra det hyggelige Taarbæk.

Kvinden, jeg mødte den forrige gang, var der intet spor af.

Billederne er gjort om med det varme aftenlys, de fortjener. Jeg vil altid tænke på Eremitagetjørnen, som den romantiske forårsbebuder den er, fornyelsen efter vinterens endeligt.

Hvidtjørnen blev også brugt, da pesten hærgede Danmark af flere omgange. Sidste gang i 1711.

”Kirkegårdenes indviede jord kunne ikke rumme de døde, og man slæbte dem derfor ud på marken i store dynger for at begrave dem dér, og oven på en sådan grav plantede man en hvidtjørn for at advare efterslægten fra at røre ved dette sted. Endnu efter 500 års forløb står trindt omkring på vore marker nogle mærkværdige gamle hvidtorn under navn af »pesttorn«; de fredes af bønderne, thi de står på vore forfædres grave. Hele det vestlige Fyn er rigt på sådanne enkeltstående gamle hvidtorn.” Danske Studier 1970.

Eremitage-Hvidtjørn

_______________________________________________________

God tur i den dejlige sommer!

The Hawthorn

The Forest

‘The Way through the Woods’ by Rudyard Kipling:

“They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones …”

The forests are the most used leisure facilities in Denmark. 90 percent of all adult Danes go for a walk in the forest at least once a year * ❤️

* Dansk Skovforening

The Ambassadors of Nature – Reposting

We were walking in the wild part of a forest when we met a woman at a crossroad. She asked for directions and soon we fell into conversation about walks, nature and places.

She’d just finished an outstanding week’s holiday in England. An English friend had introduced her to The Lake District. Let me put it this way: The Lake District had got one more ambassador.

London is the only place I have visited in England. But one of my favorite books as a child was The Swallows and the Amazons by Arthur Ransome.

A few years ago I learned by chance that the stories weren’t only fiction, but some part had their origins in reality. Windermere and Coniston Water in Lake District were the focal point.

———————-

George Kitching owns Lakeland Walking Tales. If you miss inspiration for an exciting hike in The Lake District, then you will not go in vain on Lakeland Walking Tales

Mei shows her love for photography, travel, and hiking through her blog: Mei Photo Images. Jewels Of The English Lake District is a wonderful tribute to The Lake District.

Mike never miss a chance to go for a walk including glacier walking depending on what country he is in. Luckily, I can show you excellent pictures of Lake Windermere because Mike’s wife, Jude, loves sailing. Mike calls his blog: A Little Bit Out of Focus.

Steve Foster takes us around Buttermere Lake. Another wonderful place in Lake District. Steve calls his blog: Treks and Tors.

Take pleasure in finding your own paths and leave only your footprints behind.
Happy walks 😍

Nature has many dramatic expressions from wonderfully mild summer weather to storm and thunder that roars between the mountain walls. I chose these lovely paintings on Wikimedia. Details coming up soon!

‘Coniston Water’ by Painter and illustrator, Harold Sutton Palmer.
Pearson C. – Watercolor – Landscape in the Lakes district 1867
Julius Caesar Ibbetson Lake Windermere Google Art Project
Grasmere Lake.
Alfred de Bréanski Snr. – Borrowdale
Skiddaw from Derwentwater by Richard Corbould
Henry Clarence Whaite Mountain mist, sun rise (Lake District)

Note

“Swallows and Amazons is a series of children’s books by the English writer Arthur Ransome. The series is named after the title of the first book in the series. The 12 books are about the adventures by groups of children during school holidays. Events mostly take place in England and Scotland between the World War I and World War II. The stories usually are about outdoor activities, especially camping, fishing and sailing.” * Wikipedia

Greeting Anemones

“The first blooms of spring always make my heart sing.”
~ S. Brown

We call it the anemone forest, the Trørød forest, which lies close to the sea.
Here we find tightly packed white anemones.
They nod in the wind as we pass.
As if they are greeting us on our walk.
I greet again, and it takes some time before I have passed them all 😊😊

Happy Walk Everyone❤️