Life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute,
day by dragging day, in all the thousand small uncaring ways.
Stephen Vincent Benet
No wasted minutes on this icy cold spring day.
The lapwing cries and makes spectacular patterns in the air.
The horses play tag and roll in the dust.
It’s an outstanding day 🙂
This was a beautiful sunny day. I went for the open sky, the sheep on the field and the wind in my hair.
When my walk was coming to an end I suddenly realised that I stood opposite to Rudersdal Museer with the permanent exhibition on the 7000 year old graves from the hunters who lived in Vedbæk in the Stone Age.
I could see three of the most unusual Stone Age graves exhibited and I could see the environment in which the hunters lived and what tools they used.
Some of my photos are from Vedbæk, the area in which the graves were found.
Munkholmen was an important market place in the Viking Age.
I always imagine a spectacular sight of Viking ships sweeping across the fjord while those on the shore eagerly are awaiting the latest news.
The ships are photos from previous years of the Sea Stallion from Glendalough at the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, and a ship from the Maritime Experimental Centre, Lyndby, Kr. Hyllinge.
Munkholmen is 55 km from Copenhagen a run passing Roskilde where you can find the Viking Ship Museum.
The hoarse cries of a raven put me in adventure mood. A few kilometres further on, only the creaking of snow under my shoes breaks the silence, This is an amazing day after the blizzard and the light makes my heart sing.
I’m grateful for being alive.
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the withered air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, and housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
The Snow-Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Not knowing when the down will come I open every door.
Emily Dickinson
High skies and a light breeze.
An oak holds its breath, while a tree creeper sweep the deep furrows.
Church bells in the distance blends, with a bullfinch’s cautious call.
I take a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air mixed with the delicate fragrance of sorrel.
A slight breeze awakens the oak, the tree creeper disappears around a corner,
I disappear down the path, rested and happy.
Hanna Greenwood
Happy walk to all of you.
We have timelines on social media. We have timelines for perspective, for an overview, for planning …
A walk along the coastline, is a journey into infinity, another timeline.
A time to breathe, a time to run and a time to laugh,
like the breath of the sea.
The finest workers in stone are not copper or steel tools, but the gentle touches of air and water working at their leisure with a liberal allowance of time.
Henry David Thoreau
Note
Tranquillity in the forest glade. That was a golden moment that day.
I went to the Botanical Garden in the middle of Copenhagen. I came to experience the quietness, the beautiful palm house and the exotic flowers. I ended up in a several hours long conversation with a stranger from Georgia, US.
There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven’t yet met.
– William Butler Yeats
The Botanical Garden is part of the Natural History Museum of Denmark, at the University of Copenhagen.
Natural History Museum of Denmark, Botanical Garden, Københavns Universitet
TO RETURN HOME
ThouÂsands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized peoÂple are beginÂning to find out that going to the mounÂtains is going home; that wildÂness is a necesÂsity; and that mounÂtain parks and reserÂvaÂtions are useÂful not only as founÂtains of timÂber and irriÂgatÂing rivers, but as founÂtains of life.
– John Muir, Our National Parks, 1901
HANNA'S WALK 
You must be logged in to post a comment.