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LAND 21 The day began cold and rather breezy. I watched the sun rise behind the trees – a luminous crimson disc, slowly turning orange and then yellow as it began its ascent into the clear blue sky.

I headed north on familiar roads.

Soon I found myself walking along the bike path towards Lobbæk village. The path was built on the old railway track that connected Rønne with Aakirkeby. Lobbæk was built around a railway station in the early 20^th century – at one point boasting several shops, a baker, a dairy and so on – and is still home to several hundred people. I stopped for breakfast by the old station and enjoyed the cacophony of birdsong. A red-backed shrike was an unexpected visitor. Swifts, my first of the year, screamed overhead.

I continued along the bike path for a while, and then headed north into the intensively cultivated fieldscape between Nylars and Vestermarie. The area had once been a mixture of pasture, marsh and heath, and had slowly been drained and cultivated over the centuries. Large dairy and pig farms were strung along the landscape.

My route took me south again, across the main road and into an area with smaller farms and homesteads, poorer soils, and more variety of vegetation. I headed east until I crossed Læse å, a small stream (though Bornholm’s second biggest) that on account of its unique geology and nature, is protected by law. For several kilometers a public path follows the stream along its heavily wooded valley, with fantastic information panels describing the succession of geological strata the stream flows over.

Huge windmills and a giant solar cell park welcomed visitors to the beginning of the path. I watched through my binoculars as a marsh harrier flew close to the huge rotating arms of the windmill.

Down by the stream I was sheltered from the breeze, but easy prey for mosquitos. I was entranced by my eye’s ability to see reflections on the surface and stones on the stream bed, but not both simultaneously.

I took a break by the side of an oilseed rape field, now fading a little. A low-flying marsh harrier was lit yellow by reflected light from the flowers.

Down in the wooded valley again, I felt overwhelmed by the insane visual complexity of the vegetation and water, by the myriad patches of sunlight and shadow, the colours, patterns, and shapes – all flickering with the wind. I tried desperately to simplify what I saw but to no avail.

Where the stream bends and meanders through a flower-rich meadow heavy with the scent of wild garlic, I spent a while trying to capture the layers of shale. Curious horses watched my every move. As evening fell, they became skittish and galloped about.

I followed the path out of the valley into the open fields of Vasagård – one of Bornholm’s, and indeed Denmark’s, most important archaeological sites. A cromlech was built in the early Neolithic period over 5,500 years ago, then a passage grave, and then both were combined into one barrow. Here funerals and other ritual activities have taken place over thousands of years. I crawled inside and along the passage into the pitch-black inner chamber and tried to imagine all that history. Outside again, the sun set behind the mound, with the entrance looking like an eye into another universe.

LAND 21

WEATHER REPORT – Sunny most of the day. Temperature 10 – 15 degrees. Wind 6 m/s from the northwest. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 12 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 0

KILOMETRES WALKED – 15.01 km

DAY LASTED – 16h and 42 m

PEOPLE TALKED TO – 2

BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 50 species: 5 new (icterine warbler, red-backed shrike, house martin, swift, cuckoo) running total = 111 species

LESSONS LEARNED – more water needed – I ended up boiling water from the stream.

IN MY HEAD – so much. I knew the area well, so I thought often of previous trips and encounters, my kids and so on. I thought a lot about time and impermanence, how things come and go (paths, ponds, railways, fields, barrow graves…)

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LAND 18 Kastelsbakke – ten past five in the morning. I hunkered down in the shelter of some trees and got to work, swaddled in layers and layers of thick clothing to protect me from the bitterly cold east wind.

I headed back up into the forest, partly to find shelter, but also because my planned route in Raghammer had been postponed due to military exercises. Some of the younger beech trees were already in leaf with wild cherry and plum trees in blossom, but it was difficult to stop and paint because of the gusting wind. A striking male pied flycatcher brightened my mood somewhat.

Despite the sun, my mood was soon darkened again by the constantly gusting wind. The painting board strapped to my rucksack caught the wind like a sail and I tacked and stumbled along the exposed country roads, heading south again towards the southern flatlands.

I passed quickly through the bungalows and well-kept gardens of Aakirkeby village, feeling like a stranger from another time and space. Back into the fieldscape, the first green shoots were emerging in smart green rows.

The wind, if anything, was increasing in severity. I arrived at Jættedal, a passage grave built in the late stone age over five thousand years ago, and first excavated in 1883. On my hands and knees I crawled inside and here in the womb-like inner chamber, I was somewhat protected from the wind.

Eventually, like a reluctant newborn baby, I crawled back out and faced the wind. Later, I found shelter in a small wood and even managed to catch forty winks, lying on top of an electricity box. The newly restored Saxebro Windmill looked fantastic in the late afternoon light.

I was flagging but still had many hours to go. After a long search I manged to locate Grødby menhir, hidden close to the banks of Grødby stream in some thorny scrub. According to the faded information panel, the site should have been accessible to the public, but there were no signs or paths, and the panel was almost hidden behind brambles and hawthorn.

To finish off, I sat by the bridge and looked towards the setting sun and the meandering stream – completely windblown and exhausted, but glad to have made it through the day.

LAND 18

WEATHER REPORT – Sunny morning, hazy then cloudy in the afternoon. Temperature 5 – 7 degrees. Wind 10 – 14 m/s from the east. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 10 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 0

KILOMETRES WALKED – 19.57 km

DAY LASTED – 15h and 29 m

PEOPLE TALKED TO – 0

BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 42 species: 2 new (pied flycatcher, lesser whitethroat, running total = 90 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – I hate wind even more that I hate rain (maybe?).

IN MY HEAD – I had just spent four days with a group of artists, working on September’s Klippekroppe project. Ideas, conversations and images were rattling around in my brain.

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LAND 13 Overcast, with a bitterly cold wind. Tired and underslept, and definitely not ‘feeling it’, I trudged off into the Bornholmian landscape.

Just being outside, however, soon worked its magic and my mood lightened. I walked into a small beechwood for a breakfast stop and was cheered by the sight of the small shoots of anemone leaves breaking through the leaf litter.

I walked onwards on a narrow winding road through a part of Bornholm I had never visited before. Again, I took shelter in the lee of a wood and again I painted the leaden sky, the heavy soil, the bare trees, the farms and silos.

I stumbled on, buffeted by the gusting wind on my back, and saw what looked to be a small abandoned farm along an unkempt track. Inside the dilapidated and crumbling farmhouse, a blackbird nest lay on a shelf in the old kitchen. Glad to be out of the wind I set up camp and spent a while trying to capture the rather flamboyant heap of folded wallpaper in the corner of the old living room.

I continued and passed through the small village of Pedersker, where some of the houses sit quite grandly along the main street. Not so long ago there would have been several local shops, a dairy, train station and a largely self-sufficient rural economy.

Heading south again I paused by the archaeological site of Stenebjerg, a charmingly unspectacular dolmen dating from over five thousand years ago.

By the mid-afternoon, the sun finally broke through. Sheltered from the wind with the sun on my face I actually felt rather…warm.

The last leg of the journey took me down closer to the sea again. An area by Strandmarksvejen had been left fallow or rewilded, and it was brimming with wildlife. Cranes fed alongside roe deer and hares, to a chorus of energetic skylark song. My first marsh harrier of the year, recently arrived from warmer climes, flapped overhead.

Eventually I made it to Peders Kirke and another wonderful Bornholmian church, sitting exposed in the flat landscape. Frozen by the frigid wind I struggled to capture the last rays of the setting sun. It had been a good day.

LAND 13

WEATHER REPORT – Overcast in the morning, sunny in the afternoon. Windy. Temperature 3 degrees. Wind 10 m/s from the northeast. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 3.5 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 1

KILOMETRES WALKED – 14.99 km

DAY LASTED – 11h and 50m

PEOPLE TALKED TO – 0

BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 41 species: 2 new (brambling and marsh harrier , running total = 71 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – I found a new way to put up my tarp

IN MY HEAD – thankfully I managed to leave biogas behind and enjoy the day. I looked forward to an evening of wingers with my family.

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LAND 09 Windstill and frosty at dawn, the tips of the tallest pine trees burned orange with the rising sun. Marley and I walked from the car park through the forest and up to Rokkesten, the day’s start point – Marley being my dog and enthusiastic fellow traveller for the day.

We continued on the rocky and twisting path, down through muddy dells and over granite outcrops worn smooth thousands of years ago by the retreating glaciers. We eventually arrived at a more open area with an expansive view over the southern part of the island, where the blue frost on the grass was burned off by the sun.

Down further still, to Kaasegaard, an attractively undulating landscape kept mostly open by grazing cows, sheep and…alpaca. In the past, ‘Klippeløkke’ such as this – hilly or rocky areas with thin soil used for pasture – were a significant element in Bornholm’s landscape, but very few remain today. Having never been ploughed or fertilised, they support a rich and diverse plant and animal life.

We carried on, past Slingesten and Linkisten and onwards to Gamleborg. Here I sat with a view over the valley and soaked in the warm sun while a pair of buzzards circled lazily overhead. In the far distance, I could hear cranes calling, mingling with the soporific droning of a chainsaw. Closer still, sporadic and hesitant sounds – the mesmeric song of the yellowhammer, drumming of the woodpecker, and bark of the pheasant – confirmed the sense that the forest was cautiously awakening from a deep sleep.

We marched on – past the Altersten and through a huge fir plantation, recently harvested. Heading south again, with the sun long gone and the wind increasing, we took shelter by the side of the Øle Stream.

Both rather tired now, we walked up and over ‘Slamrebjerg’, a small hill with fine views over the flat agricultural landscape towards Nexø. Winter had returned, the sunny and warm morning a distant memory. Walking down the hill again, we crossed the invisible ‘Tornquist zone’ that divides the older granite and gneiss of Northern Bornholm, from the much younger sedimentary rocks of the south – a significant boundary.

We arrived cold, windswept and exhausted at Bodils Church, our destination. From there, once I had finished painting and the sun had officially set, it was another hour’s walk through the dusk back to the car.

LAND 09

WEATHER REPORT – Sunny in the morning, overcast in the afternoon. Temperature 1 – 4 degrees. Wind 3 – 8 m/s from the west. Hours of precipitation: 0 hours. Hours of sunshine: 5 hours.

STOPS with the BIVVY – 0

KILOMETRES WALKED – 13.03 km

DAY LASTED – 10h and 49m

PEOPLE TALKED TO – 1

BIRDS SEEN and HEARD – 27 species: one new (lapwing, running total = 53 species)

LESSONS LEARNED – I am a cat person.

IN MY HEAD – the song ‘Southern Cross’ by Nine Black Alps.