The river winds its way through the forest. It is Midsummer Eve. It’s not really dark, which make the trees stand in gloomy gray silhouettes.
No wind, no birdsong, only an eternal sound from the river.
This part of the forest has always seemed alarming and eerie.
In some places the trees are felled, some even broken.
Panic rises, he shouldn’t have mocked the water sprite, and now he has to cross the last bridge before he’s safe.
Suddenly the river is silent too! Only dark and smooth on the surface and without a sound –
This is how Selma Lagerlöf, the famous Swedish author, tells the story about the fiddler who meets Näcken in the forest.
I remembered the unhappy fiddler when I passed a house in the Swedish countryside on a quiet midsummer evening. From an open window, beautiful tones flowed from a violin and forced me to listen.
Midsummer Eve in particular is hazardous since it’s there, Näcken plays his violin, trying to lure people down into the rushing river…
Happy Midsummer 😃
Floden snor sig mellem træerne. Det er midsommeraften. Det er ikke rigtig mørkt. Det får træerne til at stå i dystre grå silhuetter.
Ingen vind, ingen fuglesang, kun den evige lyd af strømmende vand.
Denne del af skoven har altid virket alarmerende og uhyggelig.
Nogle steder er træerne væltede, og nogle er endda knust.
Panikken stiger, han skulle ikke have hånet Nøkken, og nu skal han krydse den sidste bro, før han er i sikkerhed.
Nu er floden også stille! Kun mørkt strømmende vand uden lyd –
Sådan fortæller Selma Lagerlöf om den populære spillemand, som møder Näcken i skoven en midsommeraften.
Jeg kom i tanke om historien, da jeg gik forbi et hus i Halland en midsommeraften. Fra et åbent vindue strømmede vidunderlige toner fra en violin, og tvang mig til at lytte.
Især midsommeraften er farlig, når Näcken spiller sin violin og forsøger at lokke menneskene ned i den strømmende flod.
God midsommer – Trevlig Midsommar Sverige 😀
Midsummer evening Friday 25.6.2021
Spillemanden af Selma Lagerlöf
The Painting Thomas: B. Griffin (American, died 1918). Moonlight on the Delaware River, ca. 1896-1915. Oil on canvas, 29 15/16 x 40 1/16 in. (76 x 101.8 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Mrs. Alfred T. Dillhoff in memory of Rosamund E. Lafferty, 54.104 (Photo: Brooklyn Museum, 54.104.jpg)
There are some trails in the forest, but they are not consistent with my old topographic map. My compass lies on my desk top at home but I’ll find the direction using the sun.
It was one of the first walks, I tested for my self in unknown terrain. I went west towards the wonderful sea.
The sun stood low in the horizon when I finally reached my destination, and I enjoyed the silence while I ate my last supplies.
Back again on the country road I found a bus heading towards the train station. It was deeply satisfying to find my way using a map and the slope of the sun.
Subsequently, I always bring a compass with me, but now also a phone with access to Viewranger and Komoot 😊
“There is pleasure in the pathless woods. There is rapture on the lonely shore. There is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea and music in its roar. I love not man the less, but Nature more.”
~ Lord Byron
Take pleasure in finding your own paths and leave only your footprints behind.
Happy walks 😍
“Come what may, all bad fortune
is to be conquered by endurance.”
“In October, a maple tree before your window lights up your room like a great lamp.
Even on cloudy days, its presence helps to dispel the gloom.”
~ John Burroughs
Hans Andersen Brendekilde was a Danish painter, 1857–1942.
Title: Wooded Path in Autumn, Date 1902. Painting: Oil on canvas.
I once saw a grass snake at the size of an over dimensional bicycle tube in one of the small paths.
The snake was enjoying the sun, but withdrew smoothly into the bush. A breathless moment it was.
There are several wooden bridges in the bog. They become slippery like soap during the winter months.
Always an exciting moment to climb a bridge 😊