A Grey Young Heron

A Cautious Visit

Mighty roars that echo beneath the treetops.
Stags are defending their territory and they are fast runners.
You better keep a good distance 😉

Foul play in the Great Deer Park

Several years after the Bombardment of Copenhagen in 1807, a British soldier confessed an assassination on an English treasurer in the Great Deer Park north of Copenhagen.
On his deathbed, he told that he and his buddy had buried the Money Chest with the soldiers salaries under the characteristic oak tree northeast of the Hermitage Castle.

The treasure was sought at the request of Queen Victoria, and there was a lot of digging around the old oak tree but the regiment box didn’t materialise.
So where did the treasure go?

Did the other soldier return to the oak tree to bury the money somewhere else?
Or were the buddies in crime watched by other people as they dug down the money. People who behave like the magpie when it keeps an eye on where the squirrel digs its supplies down for the winter 🙂

 

 

The occupation of Copenhagen was led by Arthur Wellesley in 1807.
The English formed a semicircle around Copenhagen from Svanemoellen to Kalveboderne
Some soldiers lived at Sorgenfri Castle in Kongen Lyngby, and camped in the Great Deer Park, Jaegersborg Dyrehave.

The Stag

If I hurry I can make it before the rain starts.
That was my last thought before I rode the bike through the deer park and down to the sea.
Beautiful cumulus clouds were building up on the horizon, and the weather forecast predicted violent thunderstorms mixed with hail in exquisite places .
The sea was wonderful. Boats were mirroring their white sails in the dark shadows from towering clouds while two kayakers were sliding past me only leaving a faint murmur behind.
On my way back through the forest the clouds became darker and suddenly I hear the familiar sound of thunder while the rain starts pouring down.
While I wait out of the rain, I suddenly see a big stag on the other side of the trail.
A few minutes we look each other in the eyes, then he disappears worthy among the trees, leaving a rush in my stomach.
Maybe it was the same stag I met on a lovely autumn day: A golden moment

Lighthearted Birds

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