Perhaps you have heard of it before: A sacred hole tree.
If you have diseases or ailments, you must crawl through the hole in the tree.
There is a tradition of being naked because it is a kind of rebirth.
When you climb through the hole, you have to sacrifice a piece of clothing to the tree as thanks.
Hole trees are primarily healing trees, but often they are also taboo trees that one must not harm.
I found this tree on the meadow and was content to take this picture as the only action 😊
All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make the better
Ralph Waldo Emerson
– even if you should pass a Whomping Willow
What a beautiful, sunny morning. It makes you happy to be alive, doesn’t it? We can’t let the sun
outshine us! We have to beam, too!
Takayuki Ikkaku
That beautiful season the Summer!
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light;
and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The day was incredible hot and people took the opportunity to take a swim in historic surroundings overlooking Kronborg Castle. A spectacular choice if you ask me 😎
And ‘t is my faith, that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
William Wordsworth
A bike ride in the countryside in June is an encouraging happening. I felt as a child in Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem, The Swing:
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside.
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown–
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
Rejoice, it’s been raining. Insects are buzzing and the birds are happier than ever.
Now summer is in flower and natures hum
Is never silent round her sultry bloom
Insects as small as dust are never done
Wi’ glittering dance and reeling in the sun
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee
Are never weary of their melody
Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine
Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine
That lift athirst their slender throated flowers
Agape for dew falls and for honey showers
These round each bush in sweet disorder run
And spread their wild hues to the sultry sun …
– John Clare, June
I love insectsThe holiest of all holidays are those
Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
The secret anniversaries of the heart,
When the full river of feeling overflows; –
The happy days unclouded to their close;
The sudden joys that out of darkness start
As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are; – a fairy tale
Of some enchanted land we know not where,
But lovely as a landscape in a dream.
Holidays by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
HANNA'S WALK 
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