This is a magnificent beach in Sejerø Bugt in Kattegat. It’s called Gudmindrup. But don’t tell anyone. Keep it as a secret 🙂
The sea was our main entertainment. When company came, we set them before it on rugs, with thermoses and sandwiches and colored umbrellas, as if the water – blue, green, gray, navy or silver as it might be – were enough to watch. ~ Sylvia Plath
I did this walk with awe on a hard winter day in 2011. Every part of the landscape had turned itself into an adventure due to a heavy snowfall during the night.
Happy Winter Solstice
I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.
~ Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass
Thieves’ corner! This is where abominable greedy men with murky faces hide their precious loot. They watch greedily, while tons of gold ducats, jewellery and gems are poured into treasure chests.
Are you still with me?
That’s the picture I see when I stumble across the place-name Tyvekrogen in English; thieves’ corner. But alas! The reality is less colourful. At least when I search the web.
On the other hand I’ve never checked those houses. That’s a comfort if you just like me are greatly entertained by good stories 😊
Note: Thieves’ corner is a remote clearing surrounded by scrub and woodland.
This is from a joyous walk between two lakes: Vejlesø and Furesøen.
A little note: The residential roads are among the most expensive neighbourhoods in North Zealand – apart from the fishermen’s cabins 😉
These are folios of April,
All the library of spring,
Missals gilt and rubricated
With the frost’s illumining.
Ruthless, we destroy these treasures,
Set the torch with hand profane—
Gone, like Alexandrian vellums,
Like the books of burnt Louvain!
Yet these classics are immortal:
O collectors, have no fear,
For the publisher will issue
New editions every year. ~ Burning Leaves, November by Christopher Morley
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.
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
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
There are strange and mysterious sounds
When the winds of winter blow,
The long nights are crystal clear and cold,
And the fields and meadows are covered with snow.
The stars are frosty against the sky,
And the wind’s whistle is shrill,
As the snow blows against the house
And drifts against the hill.
Yet, I like to see during the winter
A white carpet on the ground,
To plod aimlessly in the deep snow,
where deer tracks abound.
I like to feel the stillness
Of a crisp winter’s night,
Watching a full moon rise over the horizon,
Exposing a winter wonderland beautiful and bright.
Winter Wonderland by Joseph T. Renaldi
If possible, pack your lunch and go out into the wild.
Enjoy nature and leave only your footprints behind ❤
HANNA'S WALK 
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