Here in Vejle nature is just outside of the door: a kilometers long uphill slope overgrown with beech and birch trees which abruptly plateaus into grazing fields with horses and cows, and meadows with views all over the city. From the dining table floor-to-ceiling windows I can see trees covering the tall, lush slope right outside. Sparkly blue jays make a ruckus in the trees. Now that the branches are bare I have spotted deer more than once, as well as birds I have only seen in bird books before, back in Finland. And late into October the air outside was swarming with bats.
Further along the ridge there stands a funky looking fake (?) stone sculpture with viking-era engravings and runes. For some reason this bullet-looking thing and the clearing it stands on are called Himmelpind. Sky-stick in Danish. But it is neither a stick, nor is the clearing by far the highest point in the vicinity. Even the view is partially obstructed by the forest. Nothing of this makes any sense, but the place sure is beautiful. (Vejle, Denmark; October 2019)