HANNA'S WALK

You don’t have to travel far to experience magic.
We are carrying the magic inside ourselves, though it needs to be rediscovered occasionally.
Small children don’t look for magic. The magic lives within them and they are surrounded by it.
Their world is full of trolls and dragons, castles and mountains. Tigers, lions and brave knights. Not necessarily in that order.
I met a young Spanish couple in Jægersborg Dyrehave. They looked so bewildered, that I asked if I could help.
Did I know the way to The Eremitage Castle? I pointed out the direction. They asked me if there was anything else I could recommend?
I told them about the very special Hawthorn that grows on the plain.
And about a place nearby where many people from Copenhagen were buried back in the 1800 due to a cholera epidemic.
And about the deer, I met the day before and while I told them about the nature I noticed the difference in their facial expression.
As if they woke up.
The woman spoke softly in Spanish to her boyfriend, and pointed up into the treetops. It was the ravens.
Their scream and busy life, tells about the fall.
The mood is suddenly magical.
The silence, interrupted by screams of the ravens, the roar of the stags and then silence.
And while we look in between the trees, shadows come alive.
Sometimes it’s a deer and sometimes it’s just fantasy.
Fantasy is magic.
The way they thank me when we part tells me they’ve just regained their magic ❤

 

 

Buttercups and Fairy Miners

Everything is lush and green as far as the eye can see, but after a while there is something that interferes with the green.
Golden glimpse between tall pines. Buttercups. Billions of buttercups.
As if that weren’t enough, the beautiful Icelandic horses adorn the meadow and immortalise this vibrant summer day
That’s what walking is all about:
Beautiful discoveries ❤

There must be fairy miners
Just underneath the mould,
Such wondrous quaint designers
Who live in caves of gold.

They take the shining metals,
And beat them into shreds,
And mould them into petals
To make the flowers’ heads.

Sometimes they melt the flowers
To tiny seeds like pearls,
And store them up in bowers
For little boys and girls.

And still a tiny fan turns
Above a forge of gold,
To keep, with fairy lanterns,
The world from growing old.

By Wilfrid Thorley

A Medieval ruin, A Tunnel System and a Tinker

The party was at 17 o’clock. We can take a walk in the area before our arrival.
My suggestion was based on the fact that “The adventure is waiting for anyone who understands to grab it.” ¹
Knud Rasmussens adventures were great, but small adventures also have their time on Earth especially when time is short 🙂
It was not a sleigh ride on Greenland, an experience Knud Rasmussen would have preferred, but a hike at an old castle tower and through a tunnel system formed by the last ice age.

¹”The adventure is waiting for anyone who understands to grab it.”
Knud Rasmussen

The March wind roars
Like a lion in the sky,
And makes us shiver
As he passes by.
When winds are soft,
And the days are warm and clear,
Just like a gentle lamb,
Then spring is here.
Author Unknown

Is it safe to go there? I ask a woman who comes walking towards me on the bridge. She empties one of her shoes for water and mud.
She was trying to avoid deep puddles, and her foot disappear into a mud hole instead. I can not laugh at incidences like that, I’ve tried them all.
She is warning me for strong wind gusts.
I don’t find it attractive to swim in the icy water wearing a lot of clothes that will pull me down but the walk is great.

The Magical Power of Snow

The hoarse cries of a raven put me in adventure mood. A few kilometres further on, only the creaking of snow under my shoes breaks the silence, This is an amazing day after the blizzard and the light makes my heart sing.
I’m grateful for being alive.

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the withered air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, and housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.

The Snow-Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson

“If you’re not living on the edge you’re taking up too much space.”
Stephen Hunt

This was his summer cottage. I overheard the conversation between two women passing me when I was going down the hill.
A summer cottage I thought? Knud Rasmussen was preparing for his expeditions as a polar explorer and wrote his travel books, scientific reports, tales and legends in this place.
In the windswept house overlooking the sea, he shared his adventures with us.
It’s a grand tale of a man who always were out on an adventure. In reality or in his thoughts.
Knud Rasmussen died in 1933, 54 years old.
Peter Freuchen, another great polar explorer and friend wrote these words after Knud’s death:

“Knud Rasmussen was a man who endured to be viewed close up without losing in value.”

Did Knud Rasmussen take up to much space?  He only became 54 years old, but he achieved much more than most people do in a lifetime.

Note

Bag byen ligger Knud Rasmussens hus på en 30 meter høj klint

Behind the town lies Knud Rasmussen’s house on a 30 meter high cliff

The House of Knud Rasmussen
Knud Rasmussen – Wikipedia

%d bloggers like this: