A walk in the shade
Winter came late this year and with a few days of Spring, Summer came with a sustained heat never experienced before.
Walking in the shade along a lake is wonderful.
We went for a great walk along Furesøen in late May with a cooling breeze from the lake.
A few days later we did a walk along the lake one morning.
Greetings of good morning came from everywhere.
A very pleasant walk among happy people.
Sunshine does remarkable things for people’s mood 🙂
In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms, I move through them; yet in metaphysical ones, they seem to move through me.
The Magic Fairy Land
Have you ever been out in field and woodland, by streams and lakes, by a tree all in blossom or a hedgerow laden with berries – and just felt sure that you were not alone?
That’s how Teresa Moorey introduce her book: The Fairy Bible.
I’m tempted to read the book because I feel deeply happy to live in a place much alike.
In these days the hawthorn blossoms on the field, Hvidtjørnesletten and makes an unforgettable impression on all beings.
I have been out there several times this week to experience the atmosphere once again.
One evening the field was kind of sacred. The scent of blossoming hawthorn was intoxicating and the quiet soothing sounds from the animals made the place magical.
The deer moved imperceptible between the hawthorns while they graze.
People seemed affected and stood still or spread a blanket just to sit and be in the present. They were lowering their voice and that might have been because of the fairies.
They were afraid to scare them away.
Over hill, over dale,
Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
Thorough flood, thorough fire!
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon’s sphere;
And I serve the Fairy Queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours;
In those freckles live their savours;
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.
‘A Fairy Song’ by William Shakespeare
Sweet was the walk along the narrow lane
At noon, the bank and hedge-rows all the way
Shagged with wild pale green tufts of fragrant hay,
Caught by the hawthorns from the loaded wain,
Which Age with many a slow stoop strove to gain;
And childhood, seeming still most busy, took
His little rake; with cunning side-long look,
Sauntering to pluck the strawberries wild, unseen.
Now, too, on melancholy’s idle dreams
Musing, the lone spot with my soul agrees,
Quiet and dark; for through the thick wove trees
Scarce peeps the curious star till solemn gleams
The clouded moon, and calls me forth to stray
Thro’ tall, green, silent woods and ruins gray.
‘Sweet Was The Walk’ by William Wordsworth
A lovely day in the month of May
… det var maj som kom.
Nu kom der en dame ud af vognen.
“Frøken Maj!” sagde hun. I sommertøj med galocher; hun havde en bøgebladegrøn silkekjole på, anemoner i håret, og hun duftede dertil sådan af skovmærker, så skildvagten måtte nyse. “Gud velsigne Dem!” sagde hun, det var hendes hilsen.
Hun var nydelig! og sangerinde var hun; ikke på teatrene, men inde i skoven; ikke i teltene, nej, i den friske grønne skov gik hun og sang for sin egen fornøjelse; hun havde i sin sypose Christian Winthers “Træsnit,” for de er som bøgeskoven selv, og “Smådigte af Richardt,” de er ligesom skovmærker.
Tolv med posten, Et eventyr af Hans Christian Andersen
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