How silently they tumble down
And come to rest upon the ground
To lay a carpet, rich and rare,
Beneath the trees without a care,
Content to sleep, their work well done,
Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly
Until they nearly reach the sky.
Twisting, turning through the air
Till all the trees stand stark and bare.
Exhausted, drop to earth below
To wait, like children, for the snow.
By Elsie N. Brady, Leaves

You don’t have to travel far to experience magic.
We are carrying the magic inside ourselves, though it needs to be rediscovered occasionally.
Small children don’t look for magic. The magic lives within them and they are surrounded by it.
Their world is full of trolls and dragons, castles and mountains. Tigers, lions and brave knights. Not necessarily in that order.
I met a young Spanish couple in Jægersborg Dyrehave. They looked so bewildered, that I asked if I could help.
Did I know the way to The Eremitage Castle? I pointed out the direction. They asked me if there was anything else I could recommend?
I told them about the very special Hawthorn that grows on the plain.
And about a place nearby where many people from Copenhagen were buried back in the 1800 due to a cholera epidemic.
And about the deer, I met the day before and while I told them about the nature I noticed the difference in their facial expression.
As if they woke up.
The woman spoke softly in Spanish to her boyfriend, and pointed up into the treetops. It was the ravens.
Their scream and busy life, tells about the fall.
The mood is suddenly magical.
The silence, interrupted by screams of the ravens, the roar of the stags and then silence.
And while we look in between the trees, shadows come alive.
Sometimes it’s a deer and sometimes it’s just fantasy.
Fantasy is magic.
The way they thank me when we part tells me they’ve just regained their magic ❤



I know! I shouldn’t complain.
Not after Irma or the devastating monsoon or the terrible forest fires.
But something has changed in Denmark, at least this year.
Large amounts of rain is about to set the record for the wettest summer in living memory.
Therefore I found the poem by Juan Olivarez very suitable:

At first I couldn’t get enough,
Now I just can’t make it stop.
No rain in the desert that was rough,
Around here there’s no dry spot.

It’s been raining everyday,
Since I came back to my home.
The sunshine just can’t seem to stay,
Hurricanes and storms, won’t leave us alone.

I like the rain like everyone,
But it’s been over done a bit.
We’ll need a boat before we’re done,
I’m about to throw a fit.

There’s a fish just swimming by,
Waving his soggy fin at me.
All I could muster was a ‘hi’,
From my perch up in the tree.

Juan Olivarez


Weather Change Happens Fast

I was in the middle of the forest. The clouds gathered and grew darker.
Soon I saw glimpses between the trees, the thunderstorm was over me.
I hate that! Suddenly you are turned into something very vulnerable and there was no car parked around the next corner.
Hours ago I went out of a bus with the intention of having a good long walk towards another bus on the edge of the forest.
I had to come up with a new idea also there were no mobile network.
Large old trees loomed in front of me on the narrow forest trail.
I had to find shelter fast. No more time to waste on my useless telephone.
My speed went up as the first rain started to fall.
Soon there were small rivers where nice trails had been just moments ago.
Weather change and consequences happens fast during these times.
I kept myself to the middle of the trail as the rain was pouring down and the thunderstorm grew in intensity.
Suddenly I heard a sound behind me and a runner passed me. We exchanged a few words urging on to each of our shelters.
Somehow it was nice to meet another human being in the middle of chaos.
When I found my bus at last I was completely soaked but very glad to be safe.
The following picture isn’t from that day.
I hadn’t got the time 🙂

%d bloggers like this: