Being inspired of the snow outside I found a winter motive along the mill river.
If snow melts down to water, does it still remember being snow?
Jennifer McMahon, The Winter People
A walk in The Danish Switzerland.
A nick name for the hilly woods in Ravnholm.
“Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently?
And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”
Old trees are like living cairns.
We can learn a lot from trees: they’re always grounded but never stop reaching heavenward.
Did I forget to warn you about
The physical well-being
The feeling of happiness
And of course
The urge for repetition
Even when it rains like today.
When the buzzard flies low over my head.
When a city person sits on the river bank in the pouring rain with his briefcase under the umbrella.
When a flock of starlings are exercising over the meadow.
When a pair of swans are wearing goggles. They certainly have their heads under water.
When the blackbird sits in the hedge humming spring songs in the middle of January.
Didn’t I warn you about being addicted to nature?