I cry

I cry. In the morning, upon waking. Light mist hovering over the lake. Markless water. Complete silence. These are tears without sobs. Tears of emotion, of happiness, for all this beauty. The spot by the lake is so quiet, so peaceful, so wonderfully beautiful, that I am suddenly overwhelmed by it. I live and I am allowed to live. And to live this life, indeed.

My deceased friends

I think of my two friends who passed away so suddenly last year when they were still so young, who gave me the courage to embrace this nomadic existence now, and of a dearly loved family member who is very seriously ill. Same age as me, future uncertain. I feel grateful. I count my blessings.

I want to see

At night, I often wake up. It’s not a problem, because every time I have a different view. I really wanted a tent that allows me to look outside and today it’s even completely open. It’s warm enough. No tunnel tent for me. I want to see. This tent even has two doors that can be opened, purely for my visual pleasure.

Night swimmers

As I just get an hour of sleep, it’s already past midnight, I am ‘joyfully’ awakened by a group of boys who come to swim. Not that they are very loud, but they dive and splash, and at night every sound carries far over the water. They are having so much fun and well… who hasn’t done that at that age? After half an hour, they leave again and I fall asleep once more.

Lost on the way

Yesterday, I descended from the Tunsbergleden to spend the night by this little lake. With this warmth, a refreshing dip was a great idea, but today I want to get back to the trail as soon as possible. First, I descend through a beautiful pine forest that will soon be full of blueberries just above the ground. Only… I can’t find my way back. I keep searching. This time, I had really looked carefully. At the map, the elevation changes, and the terrain. I didn’t want another exhausting surprise like yesterday. There had to be a connecting path somewhere. But where?

The wrong direction

Eventually, I encounter two runners. “Very easy,” they say. “That path there, beside that thick tree, keep going straight and then turn left.” So, done as said. Only it takes a very long time for that turn to come. Then I suddenly see a sign: Hvalsdammen 2.5 km. Huh? That is totally, and I mean totally, the wrong way.

Lost talent

I still don’t understand how I managed that, but my talent for getting lost has brought me to what I actually needed: swimming, relaxing, and slowing down. Yesterday, I mentioned that I had to trust that everything would be okay. I just never dared to dream it would turn out this well.

Help, no glasses strap

On this warm Sunday, it’s not quiet. People are spread across various small beaches, but that doesn’t diminish the fun. It’s nothing like the sunny crowds in the Netherlands. I pick out a nice spot, place my solar panels in the sun, and get ready for a swim. Almost. Because of my poor eyesight, I always swim with my glasses on. Without my glasses, I become completely disoriented. Only… I forgot my glasses strap. Really stupid. That was definitely on my packing list. Yesterday, I was anxiously keeping my head above water.

Wonder at the bottom of the lake

First, I will sit by the water’s edge with my feet in the clear water. Small fish swim past my legs. Then, I suddenly see a thin cord lying next to my right big toe. I fish it out of the water, craft it into a glasses cord, and then take a delightful dive with a calm mind. That’s much better than yesterday, when I swam with my head above water the whole time.

See? You have to trust that everything will be okay.

Overnight stay: Hvalsdammen