A few days ago I walked along the edge of the lake and was treated to the crunch and rustle of leaves with each step I made. The acoustics of this season are different and all sounds, no matter how hushed, are as crisp as autumn air.
~ Eric Sloane
I had a wonderful walk in the bog today after many days of rain and fog.
It’s autumn. Maybe you have an urge for mountains?
Some of my readers did a search for a map of Kullaberg on my blog.
I would recommend that you take a look at Kullaleden:
Why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing?
Can one really explain this? No.
~ Pablo Picasso
All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.
~ Marc Chagall
Note
I was inspired by Steve McCurry’s blog
What does the cup of ocean hold?
Glory of purple and glint of gold;
Tenderest greens and heavenly blue,
Shot with the sunlight through and through;
Wayward ripples that idly roam.
Tumbling breakers with gallant foam;
Sands and pebbles that chase and slide;
Mystic currents that softly glide;
Mighty spell of the ages old,
This does the cup of ocean hold…
~ Amos Russel Wells
The village is peaceful. It’s like stepping into another world. A pleasant world.
I took this picture a few days ago in between horrendous rain showers.
Maybe it’s that kind of weather that has hardened Mads Pedersen.
The young Danish UCI-rider who won The World Championships of 2019 in Yorkshire in England on the roads of Postman Pats.
A distance of 262 km.
A huge congratulation to Mads Pedersen.
Every time I see cotton grass, my thoughts fall on the Norwegian mountain lakes.
The video from the Norwegian mountains is one of my absolute favourites.
Watch and get inspired!
Today I had a great bike ride between showers. I felt really lucky when the sun broke through the clouds.
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
~ W. B. Yeats, The Lake Isle of Innisfree
HANNA'S WALK 
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