The Carefree Spring

The tree is stripped,
All color, fragrance gone,
Yet already on the bough,
Uncaring spring!

~ Ikkyu, Zen Poems of China and Japan

The world is not in your books and maps, it is out there.
~ Gandalf

Happy Walk Everyone 🥾❤️🙂

Thankfully, it wasn’t too cold for a good laugh

Solbjerg Engsø! I have a fond memory of a summer day with differently coloured flowers along the northern part of the lake.
The lake is known as a foraging site for resident- and migratory birds. I’m well aware that it’s too early for summer flowers, but maybe there were migratory birds.
A man came walking towards the parking lot with a bird binoculars around his neck.

Have you seen any rare birds today, I asked.

No not at all, he replied. Some geese on the lake, that’s all.
I was hoping for some migratory birds, but it’s probably too cold for them.
We talked a bit about how cold it was. And about the relatively few shrubs and trees with sprouted flowers compared to the season.
As we stood on the path, the sun disappeared and the wind picked up.
If you go down to the lake there is a bench but it’s not much worth.
Why not, I asked. It’s way too cold, too, he said laughing.

We wished each other a wonderful spring despite: ‘You – Know – What’☃️❄️😊

An Irish Blessing:

May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow.
May the soft winds freshen your spirit.
May the sunshine brighten your heart
May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you.
And may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.

Paying Attention

Are you planning your own walks?

The very best trips are the ones I plan myself because the attention I have in the planning is aroused when I walk the route.
For me, the attention is what makes the journey a wonderful adventure.
Such a walk was the spring trip on foot to Dronningmølle along Esrum lake.

I traveled by train into Denmark’s oldest forest, Gribskov and started my trip between spruce and beech trees. The sun was shining and the air flickered as the fog rose into the air.

Many hours later, I boarded a train in the late evening hours with an overwhelming sense of joy over nature.

Happy Adventures and Leave Only Your Footprints Behind ❤️

Note

My most attentive readers may have read about this walk before. I hope you enjoy it this time too 🙂

Duck Tracks in Thaw

This spring came suddenly from day to day. Even the snowdrifts gave up the fight eventually. They lay boasting of the last snow, telling a story of an unexpectedly harsh winter. But maybe we haven’t seen the end of winter yet.

~ Thaw by Edward Thomas
Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed
The speculating rooks at their nests cawed
And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flowers of grass,
What we below could not see, Winter pass.

Releasing the Inhabitants

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

Today, by Billy Collins

Sunday in Spring

Welcome March, Welcome Spring!
In the past, you brought very little rain with you.
I’ll put my faith in you ❤ – after 6 months of monsoon
and dear Jet Streams, don’t be so stubborn, please 🥴

A happy picture from a spring when the sun was shining.

The mysterious sound in the bog

To begin with, it was silence that dominated natures sound scape.
Weakly I could hear the children play on the other side of the lake, but then there was this deep low-frequency engine sound.
That sounds like a motocross track nearby, I said.
We stopped and looked across the bog.
Then we caught sight of millions of eyes in the water between the grasses
Hmm! Well at least a hundred.
The bog was alive. Hundreds of frogs were for congress.
A form of song contest, I think 🐸🐸🐸