A few days ago we had a wonderful summer afternoon, with a cool breeze from the lake. Good to be out and about in old settings to check if they were as beautiful as remembered 😊🥰👏
I love to see the summer beaming forth
And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north
I love to see the wild flowers come again
And mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain
And water lilies whiten on the floods
Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood
Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes
And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes
I like the willow leaning half way o’er
The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore
I love the hay grass when the flower head swings
To summer winds and insects happy wings
That sport about the meadow the bright day
And see bright beetles in the clear lake play
~ John Clare
“Warm summer sun,
Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind,
Blow softly here…”
~ Mark Twain
Lovely walk yesterday. Today’s weather turned out very hot and didn’t invite for walking.
An extremely hot wind from south made the temperature rose rapidly.
Not like in the poem of Mark Twain 😊
The forest weaves
myriad green shades
from lime and olive
to kelly green and jade
as it keeps on knitting
its cooling shade
Saiom Shriver
I have been out and about in bogs and forest. Fantastic lushness. Lots of blueberries are set out under the trees and tempt with a break in the shade.
It’s been a long time since I last walked along this beautiful lake shore.
It’s a thrill to be back
“Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.”
Henry David Thoreau, Walden
The day has to be long. How else can we experience the richness and diversity that solstice offers.
The song of the nightingale, the beautiful tones of the thrush and the song of the chaffinch over our heads. Just to name a few.
The first dew in the grass is short-lived. The sun makes the dew fly away in an almost invisible haze.
The fresh air. The scent of bog and the endless amounts of blueberry rice.
The berries, the fine sweetness that fills the mouth and paints the tongue blue and then the laughter over a sudden transformation.
The beloved cottongrass waves at us with its white tousled head and brings back memories of a wonderful Norway.
We look fascinated at the flying skill of the dragonfly. So close to the water without touching.
And then suddenly a meandering motion reveals a snake’s journey in the water.
The experiences are endless, and it is only when we run out of meals that we reluctantly go home.
Happy Midsummer ❤️
HANNA'S WALK 
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