HANNA'S WALK

Do not underestimate – finding your way home

A little boy walks towards the lifeguard tower. He is flanked by two girls, who eagerly contact the lifeguard.
The boy can not find his parents, break the girls.
We found him down at the water’s edge they say pointing to the left towards the crowded beach and the sea.
The lifeguard bends down against the boy.
What’s your name? he asks.
The little and slightly puzzled boy, looks up at the man and then at the girls.
They smile soothingly to the little boy who hasn’t learned his name yet.
Where is your mom and dad, asks the lifeguard.
The face lights up when he hears the word Dad.
Daddy has a big stomach!

We had to go with a bizarre search announcement, added the lifeguard with a smile:
Little boy wearing batman swimsuit misses his big belly dad.

Finding our way home might go wrong even for grown ups:
I read a sparkling blog post about a woman who was lost in the mountains.
She couldn’t find her way back to the hut she came from after a little stroll but without a map.
Several hikers were now trying to help her. She couldn’t speak English or German and she couldn’t remember the name of the hut either.
But! She had a telephone number to her husband who was staying back at the hut.
The hikers talked with the husband on the phone explaining where the wife was.
They agreed to meet halfway escorting the lost woman to a meeting point where the husband could pick her up.

Conclusion ❤ 🙂 :
Always keep a watchful eye on your children when they are near water.
Furthermore, some mountain advises from the The Norwegian Trekking Association:
THE NORWEGIAN MOUNTAIN CODE

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

 

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