May
Hark! The sea-faring wild-fowl loud proclaim
My coming, and the swarming of the bees.
These are my heralds, and behold! my name
Is written in blossoms on the hawthorn-trees.
I tell the mariner when to sail the seas;
I waft o’er all the land from far away
The breath and bloom of the Hesperides,
My birthplace. I am Maia. I am May.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I visited the countryside yesterday. Ninety kilometers south of Copenhagen.
Tranquillity only disturbed by the wind in the trees, the murmur of small waves and good friends laughing.
The two small dots you can see in the water are anglers 🙂
Hjelm’s Bay, Moen.
Twinkling stars on the horizon,
the eternal song from an embracing blue sea.
The smell of sand and sea
salt on my skin and lips.
Tales from the birds of the sea,
disturbed by clattering cups
and the fragrance of coffee.
That’s my childhood memories
and the day of tomorrow.
Hanna
A fleck of foam on the shining sand,
Left by the ebbing sea,
But richer than man may understand
In magic and mystery–
Transient bubbles rainbow-bright,
Myriad-hued and strange,
Tremble and throb in the noonday light,
Flower and flush and change.
A million tides have come and gone,
Great gales of autumn and spring,
A million summoning moons have shone
To bring to birth this thing–
A foam-fleck left on the ribbed wet sand
By the wave of an outgoing sea,
With all the colour of Faeryland,
Wonder and mystery.
Teresa Hooley
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 sea, once it casts its spell,
holds one in its net of wonder forever.
Jacques Yves Cousteau
This is Hell in North. That’s the rumour of Tisvilde.
The steep and long firebreaks, consisting of loose white sand, are part of a route in an annual runner competition.
But there is much more to Tisvilde than the up to 62 meter high exhausting runway of sand.
It is an outstanding piece of nature and the awesome experiences of mine are countless.
There is an old part of the forest called the Goblin Forest
Getting lost in the forest in the twilight might be a nerve wrecking walk
Inside the forest is an exotic area with many wonderful old juniper trees
The beach is second to none
…and some ‘adults’ couldn’t resist the sea even on a very cold day
The temperature change from warm and pleasant to a sudden cooling
The area is like Heaven on Earth and apparently Hell at the same time.
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Now the feast is coming to an end for the beautiful little Windflower or Wood Anemone or Thimbleweed or Smell Fox.
Dear child has many names 🙂
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
William Wordsworth
After many months of cold, rain, snow, fog and greyness the spring finally came.
Unsurpassed it is the most beautiful spring I’ve ever experienced.
Tomorrow follows further photographic documentation 🙂
We sat on a fallen tree, enjoying the warmth from the spring sun. Finally, warmer weather!
It was a wonderful day of good wind and scudding clouds.
But I noticed, small bits of cotton wool dancing in the wind, shining in the sun. Seed heads I thought, until one of the objects melted in my hand, it was snowflakes, April! 🙂
Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise!
Wallace Stevens
HANNA'S WALK 
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