Sometimes, a story sticks with me for a long time. It was such a one my friend; JJ told me about. One day he had a walk in the big old forest, Gribskov. That particular day was a day where he walked for hours without meeting anyone.
It was on his way home just before the fir trees darken the paths, that he saw two men digging between the trees up upon a hill.
One of them caught glimpse of JJ and threw the spade exclaiming: I gotta have a talk with that man down there!
My friend didn’t wait for him. He disappeared further into the forest, where the shady dark green colour becomes black and the intense scent of fir trees merge together in the silence.
Even years after hearing the story I fantasise about what they dug up – or down upon that hill.
The story popped up again when I saw the image of Hans Andersen Brændekilde, Jægeren.
I get the impression of foul play.
Jægeren by Hans Andersen Brændekilde
A Danish painter; H.A. Brændekilde
Born 7. April 1857, Brændekilde, Death 30. marts 1942, Jyllinge.
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