What a wonderful day. Half past 11.00 a.m. I went for a trip through the forests and along the edge of a vast field of heather. And, after a tough climb over a dirt road I set down for a simple lunch from my backpack. It was lovely, the sun was shining, the wind was absent and at my feet a lonely beetle was crawling in some decomposing wood fragments. The deep black and blue color of its shields on the warm brown color of the wood. Clumsy the beetle crawled his way upwards and stumbled now and then downwards again but with determination the bug went on to reach the top.
I was also sitting at a top of a hill with a endless seeming view over the heather, with ancient burial hills in the distance. The bark of the birch trees seemed to radiate almost, a bright, white color.
No unwelcome sounds, no people in sight, just the birds and me. A wonderful moment of quietness and peace. It almost hurts when you return home after a while and disturbing noises of cars and buildings are drawing attention. Civilization, a blessing or a curse. Probably both.
