The sun shines from a sparkling blue sky and I feel an urge to see the thick patches of snow spread over my nearest landscape of wilderness.
The snow has already started to melt when I walk into the forest and I hear an unfamiliar sound among the trees.
That is snow, that reluctantly let go of the branches and falls to the ground. Not heavy as for snow which been around for weeks.
No, it’s the dust of snow that falls as in the poem by Robert Frost.
Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,
And we, we were children once again.
Bill Morgan, Jr.
The cold was our pride, the snow was our beauty. It fell and fell, lacing day and night together in a milky haze, making everything quieter as it fell, so that winter seemed to partake of religion in a way no other season did, hushed, solemn.
Go to the winter woods: listen there, look, watch, and “the dead months” will give you a subtler secret than any you have yet found in the forest.
Fiona Macleod, Where the Forest Murmurs
The door was shut, as doors should be,
Before you went to bed last night;
Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,
And left your window silver white.
He must have waited till you slept;
And not a single word he spoke,
But pencilled o’er the panes and crept
Away again before you woke…
Gabriel Setoun, Jack Frost
One shade of blue for water, one for ice,
Another blue for shadows over snow.
The clear or cloudy sky uses blue twice-
Both different blues. And hills row after row
Are colored blue according to how far.
You know the bluejay’s double-blur device
Shows best when there are no green leaves to show.
And Sirius is a winterbluegreen star.
Blue Winter by Robert Francis
We did this walk, while the heat wave swept across Denmark!
I’ve read about hiking trips in Corsica. “GR 20 – the toughest long distance trail in Europe”.
It’s mountainous terrain, but the biggest challenge is to get enough water.
Here comes my point; I craved for water on this walk in Denmark.
The planned route is about 10 kilometers. But it felt like 20 kilometers a least.
Just like a hike on the GR 20 at the end of the stages –
The reason for our visit was three very old oaks, the oldest of which is still alive.
King-Oak is the name of the tree and the age is between 1,500 and 2,000 years old.
A genuine Ent!
Northern Europe’s oldest oak tree, Quercus robur subsp. robur.
Don’t forget your lunch and lemonade and leave only your footprints behind ❤