Memory of wood
We find our winding way between the timber colonnades of talkative fir-trees swaying with the breeze we tiptoe through sun-dappled ferns when high above a jay take flight, scared perhaps, […]
Tag Archives: walking in the wood
A Saturday at the end of November
We walked north today only to return to home by bus; accomplishing nothing… except to see a blanched glimpse of winter sun holding hoarfrost to its shallow chest… and that’s […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 