Hans Andersen Brendekilde was a Danish painter, 1857–1942.
Title: Wooded Path in Autumn, Date 1902. Painting: Oil on canvas.
I once saw a grass snake at the size of an over dimensional bicycle tube in one of the small paths.
The snake was enjoying the sun, but withdrew smoothly into the bush. A breathless moment it was.
There are several wooden bridges in the bog. They become slippery like soap during the winter months.
Always an exciting moment to climb a bridge 😊
Timeless sea breezes,
sea-wind of the night:
you come for no one;
if someone should wake,
he must be prepared
how to survive you…
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
A Danish painter Laurits Tuxen (1853–1927) The North Sea in stormy weather. After sunset. Højen.
The picture below text conjured up lovely days by the sea in the month of May years ago.
We went on excursions in the forest and on the beach. We only used the rented house to sleep in.
The fresh sea air, the smell of sand and the spicy sweetness of resin from the pine trees.
The scents are missing from the picture, but when I close my eyes, the scents meet me as if I were walking through the forest on my way to the sea.
Click the link to watch this beautiful post from the Danish countryside: Gudernes Stræde
Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees. You look,
and soon these two worlds both leave you,
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth,
leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as
that thing that turns to a star each night and climbs-
leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads) your own life,
timid and standing high and growing, so that, sometimes blocked in,
sometimes reaching out, one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by Robert Bly
This was a beautiful sunny day. I went for the open sky, the sheep on the field and the wind in my hair.
When my walk was coming to an end I suddenly realised that I stood opposite to Rudersdal Museer with the permanent exhibition on the 7000 year old graves from the hunters who lived in Vedbæk in the Stone Age.
I could see three of the most unusual Stone Age graves exhibited and I could see the environment in which the hunters lived and what tools they used.
Some of my photos are from Vedbæk, the area in which the graves were found.
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.
Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.
Steve Jobs
Photo by Hanna Greenwood
Be careful what you water your dreams with. Water them with worry and fear and you will produce weeds that choke the life from your dream. Water them with optimism and solutions and you will cultivate success. Always be on the lookout for ways to turn a problem into an opportunity for success. Always be on the lookout for ways to nurture your dream.
Lao Tzu
Photo by Hanna Greenwood
The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.
Eleanor Roosevelt
Photo by Hanna Greenwood
WISHING ALL OF YOU A GREAT WEEK
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
Not knowing when the down will come I open every door.
Emily Dickinson
There is a warning of snow in the air today. It’s cold by the lake and clouds are looming at a blue sky.
The cold was our pride, the snow was our beauty. It fell and fell, lacing day and night together in a milky haze, making everything quieter as it fell, so that winter seemed to partake of religion in a way no other season did, hushed, solemn.
Patricia Hampl
HANNA'S WALK 
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