HANNA'S WALK

Rejoice, it’s been raining. Insects are buzzing and the birds are happier than ever.

Now summer is in flower and natures hum 
Is never silent round her sultry bloom 
Insects as small as dust are never done 
Wi’ glittering dance and reeling in the sun 
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee 
Are never weary of their melody 
Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine 
Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine 
That lift athirst their slender throated flowers 
Agape for dew falls and for honey showers 
These round each bush in sweet disorder run 
And spread their wild hues to the sultry sun …
–  John Clare, June

Choose your walk with care

I had a longing for sun and bright spring flowers after seeing Jo’s post about Algarve, Portugal.
The forest wasn’t an option. None of the places I could think of was an option for that bright sunny impression ‘The beauty of an Algarve Spring’ had on me.
Then I remembered The Arboretum in Hørsholm and I wasn’t cheated.
The beautiful rhododendrons were in bloom.
The sun was out and the song thrush entertained from his large repertoire. The blackbird hummed and the bees were beeesyyy.
A marvellous walk in Denmark.

Always remember your packed lunch and leave nothing behind you but a 😊




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NOTE
Jo’s Algarve
The Arboretum in Hørsholm

A Light Exists in Spring

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.
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Sandskreds Sø

God tur pas på hinanden, og husk madpakken ❤

The Stream

March has been extremely rainy in Denmark, and we are only halfway there. The picture I took yesterday in the rain reminds me of Bobbeå, Bornholm.
Years ago we were celebrating Easter in Bornholm. It was in March, it was exceedingly cold, very windy and the most prevalent colour was brown and grey.
But the nature was staggering. Sea, rocks and impressive streams.
We defied the weather, and walked on a path along a stream surrounded by cliffs. Suddenly the path came to an end. We looked around and saw a tempting path on the other side of the stream.
We decided to wade the stream. We took off shoes and socks and went out into the ice-cold stream.
Do you know that it hurts to wade a stream in that time of year? It does!!
I am happy that it hasn’t been necessary in Norway, but I have read about other walkers heroic achievements.
The bigger hardships on a hike, the better the memory afterwards 😊

Marts har været særdeles regnfuld i Danmark, og vi er kun halvvejs. Billedet jeg tog i går i regnen, minder mig om Bobbeå på Bornholm.
For mange år siden fejrede vi påske på Bornholm. Det var i marts, det var ekstremt koldt, meget blæsende, og den mest udbredte farve var brun og grå.
Men naturen var svimlende. Hav, klipper og imponerende vandløb.
Vi trodsede vejret, og gik på en sti langs et vandløb omgivet af klipper. Pludselig ophørte stien. Vi kiggede rundt, og så en fristende sti på den anden side af åen.
Vi besluttede at vade strømmen. Vi tog sko og strømper af, og gik ud i den iskolde strøm.
Ved du, at det gør ondt at vade en strøm på denne tid af året?
Det gør det!!
Jeg er glad for, at det ikke har været nødvendigt i Norge, men jeg har læst om andre vandreres heroiske præstationer.
Jo større vanskeligheder på en vandretur, desto bedre husker man turen 😊

Never make a decision on an empty stomach

It was cold, it was windy, and he was tired and hungry after a long walk. I’m talking about one of my neighbours.
Suddenly he was standing in front of a flooded path in the bog and he didn’t want to go a detour to reach home.
I can easily balance on a wooden log, he thought.
Maybe it was the idea of freshly brewed coffee and newly baked buns, which left the doubt off.
It all went well, right up until one of the wooden logs gave in to the weight.
The boot slipped on the greasy surface, and he fell into the bog. He couldn’t reach the bottom with his feet but managed to grab one of the wooden logs and pull himself up on the path.
The stench of the rotten bog water, and the cold weather made him capitulate.
He phoned home. But he had to sit on a thick layer of newspapers all the way.
It’s a funny story, but only because of a happy ending.
Always remember your packed lunch and leave only your footprints behind ❤

Det var koldt, det var blæsende, og han var træt og sulten efter en lang gåtur. Jeg taler om én af mine naboer.
Nu stod han foran en oversvømmet sti i mosen, og han ønskede ikke at tage en omvej for at komme hjem.
Jeg kan nemt balancere på træstammen, tænkte han.
Måske var det ideen om friskbrygget kaffe og nybagte boller, der efterlod enhver tvivl.
Det hele gik godt, indtil én af træstammerne gav efter for vægten.
Støvlen gled på den fedtede overflade, og han faldt i mosen.
Han kunne ikke nå bunden med fødderne, men formåede at gribe fat i én af træstammerne og trække sig op på stien.
Stanken af det rådne mosevand, og kulden fik ham til at kapitulere.
Han ringede hjem. Men han var nødt til at sidde på et tykt lag aviser hele vejen.
Det er en sjov historie, men kun fordi det gik godt.
God tur, husk endelig madpakken og efterlad kun dine fodspor ❤

Dust of Snow

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.

Go to the winter woods …

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.
Patricia Hampl

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

Christmas Eve in Sweden

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

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