Environment

Which path would you choose?

Posted on by Hanna

We can go for a walk, but only on the big paths!!
It is not the first time we have that exchange of words my friend and I, but that’s just an expression of differences between to people.
Well today I’m alone and I can pick all the twisted and odd paths I might find and I’m thrilled. I choose new paths I’ve never walk before and get a new view to lakes due to a different angle.
That finally brings me along a small path between newly sprouted birch trees to a point on a hill beside the biggest hill we have in Denmark in North Zealand; Maglebjerg.
Here I find a beautiful granite stone, but without the inscription on the geodetic measuring point on Maglebjerg. The only marking is a large engraved X on the top of the stone.
X marks the spot! I can still see the path below between the beautiful fresh beech leaves.
Only the song from the birds can be heard that’s all.
On a day like today this spot is worth a visit.

Why do we love the sea?

Posted on by Hanna

I sometimes wonder why the attraction to the sea is that big.
But maybe the answers are many.

Why do we love the sea? It is because it has some potent power to make us think things we like to think.
Robert Henri

Me, A Weather Prophet

Posted on by Hanna

I was near Farum, and I decided to take a walk around Farum lake.
Rain was coming in later according to the weather forecast but I reckoned I had time enough to catch my train at the end of my walk without getting drenched.
Normally I always carry with me some protection for bad weather but not that day.
I know that there are loads of mirabelle flowers along the path and the spring flowers pushed my concerns aside.
I had nearly ended my beautiful walk when I met a photographer with whom I had a chat.
As I was breaking up I noticed the smell of rain. I think rain is on its way now, I said.
No, I don’t think so, he said while looking at the sky.
Just having said that, the rain started to fall.
I couldn’t help but laughing and he gave me a little smile admitting that I did warn him.
So the rain got me in the end but I didn’t mind.
The last sentences in the conversation made me smile the rest of my way to the train despite my wet clothes.

Woods

Posted on by Hanna

In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms, I move through them; yet in metaphysical ones, they seem to move through me.
John Fowles

Walk softly in nature

Posted on by Hanna

Walk softly and you might see a young squirrel 🙂

It’s spring.

Posted on by Hanna

On my way home I had a joyous walk.
Now children are building tree houses.
Okay! I’ve seen houses that are more sophisticated, but everything counts on a spring day

Go through that door –

Posted on by Hanna

As you sit on the hillside, or lie prone under the trees of the forest, or sprawl wet-legged by a mountain stream, the great door, that does not look like a door, opens.
Stephen Graham

Gallows Hill, Devil’s Bog and Tinka’s Christmas

Posted on by Hanna

Tinka’s Christmas Adventure was an advent calendar on television for children last year.
Many scenes took place by the lake; Brænteljung.
The lake is artificially landscaped and a great success for breeding swans.
On a day like today the scenery actually is like an adventure.
There are many sunken roads in the forest created by the past’s traffic with ox or horse-drawn carriages.
Gallows Hill speaks for itself, fortunately, there are no leftovers from the past but a small hill by the road with newly sprouted beech trees.
Devil’s Bog is nothing but a wonderful bog.
Or so I hope! 🙂

It’s time to get lost in the forest

Posted on by Hanna

Children are playing in the hills, the buzzard are circling the lake, the grass snake rushes rapidly between the newly sprouted forest foliage, a wren scolds from inside a wood stack, the frogs are singing a spring song, a lemon butterfly flies wildly over the anemones, as if it thinks, is it summer already?

Happy walk out there and leave nothing but your footprints ❤

A Miraculous Change

Posted on by Hanna

If spring came but once a century instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow