It has been rather mild the past few days, but after yesterday’s rain, the temperatures were sinking below zero last night. The morning welcomed us with frosty rime and after breakfast we bundled up for a winter walk.
Right behind our old barn, down the meadow, is a small fen. During the warmer seasons of the year, we have to take a detour to get to the forest. Only the deer brave the marshy grounds, they don’t seem to mind wet feet when they make their way from the woods up the hill.
Now that the grounds were frozen, we could take a walk across the fen, hopping from tussock to tussock. Ljungarum looked like a painting, the hills and the forest, the meadows and the bog bathing in the soft winter light. From afar, between frost-covered alder shrubs and reeds, we could see our chimney sending cheerful smoke signals into the winter sky. Come home, come home, before your nose tips freeze off!