A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here
A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.
It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.
Then, as horizons step,
Or noons report away,
Without the formula of sound,
It passes, and we stay:
A quality of loss
Affecting our content,
As trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a sacrament.
A Light Exists in Spring by Emily Dickinson
I went to the forest to find the beautiful horses at Sandskreds Soe, the horse in this post is from my hike in December.
Nevertheless the hike was stunning with the light that gleamed in lakes and hills, grasses and trees
Det lykkedes mig ikke at finde de smukke heste ved Sandskreds Sø, hesten i dette indlæg er fra min vandretur i december.
Ikke desto mindre var vandreturen fantastisk med lyset, der skinnede i søer og bakker, græs og træer.
God tur pas på hinanden, og husk madpakken ❤
Forest and Stream! I love to trace
Your inmost depths, your watery race;
I love your dense, primeval shade,
O forest monarch! to invade.
I love, O grand, majestic Stream!
To wander where your ripples gleam,
To plunge beneath your ice-cold breast;
To seek the wild-fowl that infest
Your wooded shores; to spread the sail
In gusty breeze or howling gale;
To take the springing trout that skim
Your face, or in abysses swim;
In storm, in calm, in shade, in shine,
My heart, my steps to thee incline.
No haunts of earth so fair I deem
As Forest-side and banks of Stream!