Munkholmen was an important market place in the Viking Age.
I always imagine a spectacular sight of Viking ships sweeping across the fjord while those on the shore eagerly are awaiting the latest news.
The ships are photos from previous years of the Sea Stallion from Glendalough at the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde, and a ship from the Maritime Experimental Centre, Lyndby, Kr. Hyllinge.
Munkholmen is 55 km from Copenhagen a run passing Roskilde where you can find the Viking Ship Museum.
On my walk towards the sea today, I heard the skylark and the lapwing. The larks song was persistent, and suddenly it flew quite close to me. I think the bird was frolicsome 🙂
All the birds were busy. Buzzards gathered, and rose on thermals while their screams mingled with ravens and crows.
On my way home I even heard the yellow hammer.
March! March! March! They are coming
In troops to the tune of the wind.
Redheaded woodpeckers drumming,
Gold – crested thrushes behind;
Sparrows in brown jackets, hopping
Past every gateway and door;
Finches, with crimson caps, stopping
Just where they stopped before.
March! March! March! They are slipping
Into their places at last. . .
Literature white lily buds, dripping
Under the showers that fall fast;
Buttercups, violets, roses;
Snowdrop and bluebell and pink,
Throng upon throng of sweet posies
Bending the dewdrops to drink.
March! March! March! They will hurry
Forth at the wild bugle sound,
Blossoms and birds in a flurry,
Fluttering all over the ground.
Shake out your flags, birch and willow!
Shake out your red tassels, larch!
Grass blades, up from your earth – pillow.
Hear who is calling you. . . March.
Lucy Larcom, March
I had a chat with a man who recommended me the Botanic Garden in Charlottenlund, north of Copenhagen.
The garden isn’t very big but I found a genuine happiness walking among those huge exotic ancient trees.
A Canadian Poppel was absolutely amazing. It took me some time to tear myself away from this wonder.
There are lots of magnolia trees and bushes. When they are blooming, the sight must be quite unforgettable.
I will make an essential note in my calendar.
Earlier the garden was a unit of KVL arboretum in Hørsholm now it is the Danish Nature Agency, which administers the garden with very qualified help from:
Foreningen Forstbotanisk Haves Venner
I was on my way home on a grey cloudy day when I saw this fine episode. The children brought beautiful red apples with them from home and spoiled the horses with treats.
One little girl had small wings on her shoes. I got an association to Pegasus. ❤
It began to snow in the evening. The snow blocked the view. The world went white. At the same time came the silence. The kind of silence that is almost audible. The silence that gets us to relax and put the world to a halt.
The morning came and the world was new. The forest was stunningly beautiful. The sun’s warming drew thick white lines against the azure sky when cascades of snow had to let go of their hold in the tall pines in the forest. Everywhere I could hear unexpected sounds as if there were thousands of animals set loose among the trees. But it was the snow that was visiting and did much ado about itself.
Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.
Steve Jobs
Photo by Hanna Greenwood
Be careful what you water your dreams with. Water them with worry and fear and you will produce weeds that choke the life from your dream. Water them with optimism and solutions and you will cultivate success. Always be on the lookout for ways to turn a problem into an opportunity for success. Always be on the lookout for ways to nurture your dream.
Lao Tzu
Photo by Hanna Greenwood
The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.
Eleanor Roosevelt
Photo by Hanna Greenwood
WISHING ALL OF YOU A GREAT WEEK
The flowers of late winter and early spring occupy places in our hearts well out of proportion to their size.
Gertrude S. Wister
The little bird, the white throated dipper is a very entertaining bird.
People who know the bird’s behaviour smile in recognition when one refers to the bird’s one-man show.
The white throated dipper is Norway’s national bird.
When winter is hard in Norway, the dipper flies on holiday in Denmark. Ornithologists will probably express it differently, but I like the idea that the bird keeps a well-deserved holiday in a mild climate.
Besides the current Norwegian name Fossekall; ‘Waterfall Call’, the dipper has many dialect names in Norway.
Among these are Elveprest; ‘River Priest’ and Kvemkall; ‘Mill Shell’.
The dipper has at least 70 different local names in Norway, and at least 50-60 are known from Sweden.
NOTE
You can read much more about the bird on Wikipedia and listen to its song.
The hoarse cries of a raven put me in adventure mood. A few kilometres further on, only the creaking of snow under my shoes breaks the silence, This is an amazing day after the blizzard and the light makes my heart sing.
I’m grateful for being alive.
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the withered air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, and housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
The Snow-Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson
HANNA'S WALK 
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