A walk in Resarö in January
The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
/John Updike
I am taking this walk one late afternoon this month. January. My fingers freeze and the air is fresh but cold. I do this walk quite often since I live here. From my cottage, passing a couple of households, a meadow, some horses and the bus-stop on my way down to the beach, which I can Imagine is quite crowdy during the summer. Then I walk up a small hill, into the woods. And home again.
This particular day I stopped just because I had my camera. I think I love taking pictures because it forces me to stop, be in the moment more than usually. Sometimes I am just so much up in my head. Love how this horse ran towards me even if he was back at the barn when I walked up to the fence. I really like horses. A lot. Unfortunately I have never took the time to fulfill my dream to ride horses and be part of their lives, a dream which was quite passionate as a young girl.
Life has so much to offer. I find it very difficult to be bored.