Renegadetourist

Archive for July, 2011|Monthly archive page

Hill of crosses 10:38 am

In Place description, Writing on 2011/07/28 at 18:34

Photos cannot truly describe this place, there is simply too much of it. Crosses, thousands and thousands of crosses, all in a big jumble. Big crosses, small crosses, iron crosses and wooden ones. Two small hills in the middle of nowhere completely covered by them, some are simple some are ornate, the  smaller ones hanging off bigger ones, crosses all around. Intermingled with the multitude of crucifixes are jesus status and other religious symbols. That the weather is slightly cloudy doesn’t matter, the experience itself overshadows such trivial matters. My words however, just like a photo, are insufficient to describe such an odd occurence, only by being here in the flesh can you truly grasp the subtleties of the place.

Kronoborg castle 2:59 pm

In Place description, Writing on 2011/07/25 at 20:00

There is something rotten in the state of denmark…it is raining so hard that visiting hamlets old castle is less than fun. We are standing in the tunnel through the second battlement, cowering from the rain. The vaults overhead are white except the last one before entering the castle grounds, which has been painted a bright orange; through its opening we see the big main building, yellowish grey masonry with a maroon roof and a high, ornamented copper spire tapering to a point, piercing the milky sky. I wish I could se more of this famous fortress but it will have to wait for a day with better weather. Maybe reading Hamlet until then is a good idea.

Stenbron Arild, 10:46 pm

In Place description, Poetic prose, Writing on 2011/07/25 at 19:44

The sky has been painted in a lustrous gradient from dark blue above my head seamlessly changing to a lighter blue then yellow and finally pink bordering on orange. Grey clouds sweep across the pink like heavy brush strokes, turning to solid at the horizon. I know there is no land there but the cliffs are there no less. Right below the horizon a gleaming streak of yellowish white from left to right, like the trail of some fast-moving thing. The water is otherwise a greyish blue, ever so slightly tinted in yellow and pink where it mirrors the sky. A ragged edge of foliage, so dark green as to be almost black frames the lower part of the view while squeaking chirping insects create an auditive backdrop. My girlfriend embraces me from behind as I add letter to letter in an effort to describe something so common yet wonderous as a lingering sunset.

My place, 3:10 am

In Place description, Poetic prose, Writing on 2011/07/10 at 18:42

To the left the sky is filled with blue-tinted grey clouds that form a ragged edge where they meet a sky shifting in colors. It starts high up as a washed out yellow that streaks the edges of the cloud rags then changes to orange and later pink closer to the distant hills. The gradient sweeps to the right turning the sky light blue then grey with hazy clouds that seem to be part of the hills. Down below the city still dwells in darkness except for the warm glow of street lights.  A cool breeze gently ruffles the darkened tree tops and caresses my face  while birds chirp their good mornings. It is all accompanied by the classical piece “Walking in the air” which, despite being a winter song, seems perfect for the moment.