Today I had a great bike ride between showers. I felt really lucky when the sun broke through the clouds.
A bike ride in the countryside in June is an encouraging happening. I felt as a child in Robert Louis Stevenson’s poem, The Swing:
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
River and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside.
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown–
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall.
We must away ere the break of day.
Far over wood and mountain tall.
By J.R.R. Tolkien, Lord of the Rings
It’s time to wander!
A fairy tale was waiting for me outside the Fairy Tale Woods. A suitable name for these woods!
The first thing I saw were cows grazing. But between them on the ground lay a small bundle.
A cow had calved a moment ago. The umbilical cord hung between the legs.
Both animals were looking a bit exhausted but after a while the calve made attempts to stand despite its shaky legs. That was a lovely sight!!
While I was watching, butterflies were gathering around flowers and the fragrances of summer was wonderful
Keep your eyes open for fairy tales ❤
The Danish name for butterfly is sommer-fugl. Consisting of two words: Summer and bird
For a start it was like any other walk I’ve been on but then I came down to the lake.
Once it was a necessity to pull off shoes and socks on this side of the lake when strong wind came in from west.
I don’t need it today because the new bridge is raised half a meter above previous level.
Sometimes it’s nice with challenges, but today I’m happy to keep my shoes on.
The temperature is just above freezing, and the wind is 15 to 20 m/s.
Maybe my pictures got blurred but then you know why. I was a bit shaken but not stirred.
When you shake a Martini small fragments of ice are floating on top and that’s exactly how I felt when I left the lake behind me. Chilled to the bone.
There are quiet in the forest. Birch trunks stand naked in the shade. Their branches reach up into the low sun.
Then suddenly I hear a strange sound.
The sound of thawing branches complaining their distress.
While the night’s hard frost turns into a liquid form, yet to freeze once more when it hits the forest floor.
The forest lies quiet waiting for the snow.
The lark trills to its heart high above the field. It disappears into the sky like a tiny dot, but the song is heard miles away and fills me with unspeakable joy. Nature is a gift!
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eyeBoth with thy nest upon the dewy ground?Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,Those quivering wings composed, that music still!Leave to the nightingale her shady wood;A privacy of glorious light is thine;Whence thou dost pour upon the world a floodOf harmony, with instinct more divine;Type of the wise who soar, but never roam;True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home!By William Wordsworth
Happy walk ❤