Finally the rain fell and so violent that the sound kept us awake for a long time.
But the result ..
Lots of rain lately
Denmark
A Little About Geography
This is not Tuscany! But on a summer day…
These Are the Days..
“These are the days of the endless summer
These are the days, the time is now
There is no past, there’s only future
There’s only here, there’s only now..”
“These Are the Days” ~ Van Morrison
In early spring, when the first birds announce their arrival. At winter time, when the silence descends and the ground turns white.
Or like now, when the wonderful endless summer must give way to the coming of autumn.
I´ve walked along the lake in all seasons.
In the span between summer and autumn, when the sun is still warm and the nights are cold. Now is the most lovely time to wander. There’s only here, there’s only now 1.
Note
1 “These Are the Days” is a song written by Northern Irish singer-songwriter Van Morrison and released on his 1989 album Avalon Sunset. It was released as the B-side of the single with “Orangefield” as the A-side.
You can find this wonderful song on YouTube and Spotify.
2 – and it is not my tent! 😊
3 Inn, Fændrikhus
Russia or Siberia
Names such as Russia or Siberia are found in several places in Denmark and have been used for desolate and remote places. Therefore also about the large, slightly inaccessible area that stretches from Villingerød in the south to the beach in Dronningmølle in the north.
In this remote area the artist Rudolph Tegner found the landscape he needed as a background for his sculptures.
Birding
I saw oystercatcher and lapwing. And lots of sea birds as well. An amazing place for birds to take a break and a lovely spot for people to watch and relax 🤗
The Hilly Path
The calmness of a horizon
Hmmm! Where did I moore my boat?
Late Summer Light
A Summer Afternoon in August
A few days ago we had a wonderful summer afternoon, with a cool breeze from the lake. Good to be out and about in old settings to check if they were as beautiful as remembered 😊🥰👏
I love to see the summer beaming forth
And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north
I love to see the wild flowers come again
And mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain
And water lilies whiten on the floods
Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood
Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes
And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes
I like the willow leaning half way o’er
The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore
I love the hay grass when the flower head swings
To summer winds and insects happy wings
That sport about the meadow the bright day
And see bright beetles in the clear lake play
~ John Clare
HANNA'S WALK 
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