A few days ago we had a wonderful summer afternoon, with a cool breeze from the lake. Good to be out and about in old settings to check if they were as beautiful as remembered 😊🥰👏
I love to see the summer beaming forth
And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north
I love to see the wild flowers come again
And mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain
And water lilies whiten on the floods
Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood
Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes
And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes
I like the willow leaning half way o’er
The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore
I love the hay grass when the flower head swings
To summer winds and insects happy wings
That sport about the meadow the bright day
And see bright beetles in the clear lake play
~ John Clare
The forest weaves
myriad green shades
from lime and olive
to kelly green and jade
as it keeps on knitting
its cooling shade
I have been out and about in bogs and forest. Fantastic lushness. Lots of blueberries are set out under the trees and tempt with a break in the shade.
What a delightful event that Tour de France makes its way past Denmark.
I hope all participants will have a great experience.
“When I was younger I asked my dad how many hills were left towards the end of the ride, he would reply: “It’s all downhill. Except for the uphill bits.””
~ Tom Cullen
Four wheels move your body, two wheels move your soul. ~ Nicola Miller
We walk a few kilometers along winding residential roads with flowering shrubs, trees and cozy houses, and soon we are down by the lake.
This is years and a few lock downs since I last was here, and I’m completely overwhelmed by the thoughts of all the fun and strenuous experiences that have piled up over the years.
It is cold and windy. The weather is very changeable and the rain showers violent. Still, we meet people who are out and about.
Soon it is pouring down with hail and heavy rain, and we hurry to shelter under some large oak trees. Another awesome moment where nature sets the agenda ⛈️😊
Happy Walk to All of You
Leave Only Your Footprints Behind 🥾🍀🥾🍀🥾
I had a nice walk by the lakes. Not the lakes that glorify Northern England, but 25 wonderful small lakes and ponds in Denmark.
Spring gets better year by year 🤗
“Walk lightly in the spring; Mother Earth is pregnant.”
~ Native American Indian Proverb (Kiowa)
Happy walk and remember your packed lunch! 🙂
If I want peace within, I’ll go to the sea.* It performs miracles.
I even found eider ducks in spring mood.
Those who live by the sea can hardly form a single thought of which the sea would not be part.
~ Hermann Broch
I wanted freedom, open air and adventure. I found it on the sea.
~ Alain Gerbault
The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.
~ Jacques Yves Cousteau
If there’s heaven for me, I’m sure it has a beach attached to it.
~ Jimmy Buffett
*In lack of mountains!
We are in Blekinge, Sweden.
The villages around the Bridge of Fur offer beautiful country roads, wilderness trails, ancient monuments, idylls, a dozen lakes, many with fish. All in the most beautiful nature. At the bridge, the river flows briskly under towering pine trees.
The Bridge of Fur has a very special history that I love.
The story should not be compared to the horrendous aggression on Ukraine.
The Bridge over Lyckebyån is a historic place.
Here was the national border between Sweden and Denmark in 980-1658.
In ancient times, the bridge was an important meeting place for people in the border areas.
“For over 600 years, the inhabitants lived at a national border, which they perceived as a penalty of sin.
But no boundary marking could wipe out their community.
Though at every outbreak of war, they were transformed into each other’s enemies. ” Vilhelm Moberg
Hence the peasants’ peace agreements:
The parishioners of Fridlevstad in the south, and Vissefjärda in the north had promised each other not to follow their masters across the border, and not to go against each other by force or fire.
The bridge was the bridge of peace.
We are walking, climbing and running down the mountainside and suddenly the lake is there. Indescribably beautiful.
We are silent for a moment. The moment must be kept, never forgotten.
Mountain lakes are wondrous. A reflection of sky and mountain.
A raven watch every step we take. The only sound is the cry of the bird while it is moving uneasily on a branch. Life is here and now.
Outlet at Lake Tahoe by the German-American painter, Albert Bierstadt
The Head of a Scotch Lake by the British painter, Alfred de Breanski
Mountain Scene by the German-American painter, Albert Bierstadt
In the Mountains by the German-American painter, Albert Bierstadt