LAND 47 For the first time in many weeks, I was greeted with clear skies and a stunning sunrise. I headed east past flooded fields and made several paintings of the sun’s orange corona as it began its wintry journey low across the sky.
I walked into Rutsker plantation, firstly through dark and shady stands of spruce, then brighter areas planted with larch and oak. Emerging from the wood, I passed by a bright green field where a hefty Hereford bull eyed me suspiciously.
I trudged onwards along a muddy path and entered the Rutsker Højlyng, a wonderfully varied wood and heathland partly managed by the local forestry commission. In amongst the trees, huge erratic boulders perched on the granite bedrock, in places polished flat and smooth by retreating glaciers during the last ice age.
In an open area of heathland, the dramatic sky was reflected in puddles of rainwater.
I emerged from the forest and marched on, through the agricultural landscape, with farms and homesteads scattered regularly amongst the muddy fields and small woods. The wind was picking up now and to the east, the sky was darkening dramatically.
At the tiny hamlet of Humledal, I turned southeast and walked along a quiet road with expansive views of the icy Baltic Sea. The sky was now bruised deep blue and pewter, the wind bitingly cold. Huge smoky curtains of snow and sleet were dragged across the waves by an invisible hand, getting ever closer.
A rough-legged buzzard passed overhead, struggling to maintain control in the gusty wind.
Then suddenly the wind shifted and I found myself in the middle of a sleety snow storm. I hurried along the road, before eventually finding shelter in the wooded valley surrounding Døndal Stream.
When the worst of the storm had passed, I continued onwards, stumbling down the steep sides of the valley and then walking upstream until I arrived at Døndal waterfall, Denmark’s largest. With all the rain we’ve been having, the stream was in full spate, and the crashing tumult was thunderously loud and awe-inspiring.
It was difficult to drag myself away from the all-encompassing noise and energy of the waterfall, but the day was running away. I followed the stream upstream on a slippery and overgrown path, before crossing the main road and continuing along a path next to the golf course. The path was poorly signposted, waterlogged and greasy, and I was cold and tired. The positive solar clarity of the morning seemed like a distant memory, a different day altogether.
I stumbled on through an attractive oak woodland, but I was already thinking of the long walk back to the car and the bored dog waiting for me at home, that also needed a walk.
LAND 47
WEATHER REPORT – Clear in the morning, sleety and snow in the afternoon. Temperature 2 – 5 degrees. Wind 8 – 10 m/s, from the northwest. Hours of precipitation: 2.5 hours. Hours of sunshine: 3 hours.
STOPS with the BIVVY – 1
KILOMETRES WALKED – 14.54 km
DAY LASTED – 7 h and 55 m
PEOPLE TALKED TO – 0
BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 31 species (0 new= 134 species in total)
LESSONS LEARNED – Remember to check how much gas is left before you pack it.
IN MY HEAD – Eskild and his art. Biogas, Superbandet’s new bluesy song
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