I have no heavy training... Barely Elementary School. Preferred the wilderness, it became my university, but I got muddy boots and experience instead of School knowledge so my English was therefore quite inadequate. This blog is a project to improve my skills in English language.
We all have our own universe, welcome to visit mine.
Old guys need to train their balance, so I’ve been thinking about getting a slackline for a long time. But it never happened. Now I bought a SUP instead. That was real stuff! Heavy! At least if you are a hopeless bath coward and the water temperature drops below 10 degrees…
When you leave your comfort zone and balance on the edge, you forget for a moment all the misery that surrounds us in the world right now. It’s healthy, try it!
After a night with a full moon and a starry sky, there is ice on the garden’s water barrel. It only stays for a few hours before sun and plus temperatures chase it away, but the message is clear, summer is over. Grimer times lie ahead.
I paddle north along a small forest river in the area where I live. Enjoying the silence. There has been at least one kayak trip per month over the past year. A goal that has succeeded despite the winter’s cold, has always managed to find open water somewhere in the landscape.
Strong gusts of wind whip the trees and I end up in a cloud of falling leaves. It is in a hurry now if you want to experience the splendor of color. A few windy days can clear the deciduous forest so that only the bare branchwork remains. Then it gets dark and gloomy until the snow arrives and lights up the landscape.
I continue along a smaller river that joins from the northeast. Feel the scent of rotting leaves and of cattle in a pasture above the riverbank. There are not many farms left in the valley and only a few have livestock.
Love the stillness you experience in a kayak. Enjoying the migration of birds heading south high above me and the small family of long-tailed tit, that chirping softly as they move along the riparian forest. When it’s time to turn around, I stop paddling, go with the flow, take it easy. “rivers know there is no rush. In time we will arrive” as Winnie the Pooh so wisely says!
Early morning, when the fog clears and hundreds of resting redwings clear their throats. A flock of whooper swans cries desolately as they cross the lake, I see them for a brief moment before they disappear into the clouds again.
It’s time for the annual moose hunt in our area this week and I’m staying away from the forest, for several reasons. First of all, I do not want to disturb the hunt. For many hunters it is a holy week so let them enjoy it to the fullest. I still prefer kayaking than working with a chainsaw.
It can also be unnecessarily risky to be in the areas where it is hunted. A bullet that misses its target can travel far. It is extremely unusual, but I have actually witnessed a long-range bullet hit the chainsaw just as I was about to grab it. And it’s a little too close for my liking.
When the sun breaks through, the fog disappears and the temperature rises to 11 plus degrees. A degree warmer than in the water. Autumn is really here. 12 km at a leisurely pace to enjoy the tranquility, listen to migrating birds, large flocks of finches and thrushes populate the sky and a lone common chiffhaff sings from a spruce. You know that charming warbler who insists on chiffchaff – chiffchaff – chiffchaff – chiffchaff – chiffchaff ……
Today’s kayak trip, nine km on a mirror-shiny lake. A great loon cries desolately, one last greeting before heading south. It will be seven months before we meet again.
The forest is burning with color, an enchanting time. Hurry to enjoy before the autumn storm is upon us. It is usually ruthless, leaving the trees bare as a calligraphic message, the story of late autumn or early winter.
Some people in densely populated cities, where air pollution has long obscured the night sky, have now been able to enjoy the stars for a while. It is unbelievable that we have experienced such a brutal shutdown of our consumption-hungry civilization. Imagine if humanity would be wise enough to take the chance, when the pandemic allows, and start up our business again in a somewhat fairer and more ecologically sustainable way…
The thoughts wander in step with the paddle strokes. Rhythmic, thoughtful. Curious when rounding a headland, something new and exciting may be waiting or something bad, as rubbish from our way of life…
Bear hunting is going on in our area. They injured a male bear last Friday, shot in the jaw, teeth collected for DNA analysis … police urge caution, no one should use the hiking trail that runs through the area. The bear is injured, aggressive, dangerous. They tried to find it over the weekend but failed.
The bear hunt has continued today. The injured bear has not been found but another male bear has been killed. One bear remains to be slaughtered according to this year’s license for our county. I suppose … The injured bear is reasonably counted as one of three to whom the license applies. But I am not sure, just guessing, I have no knowledge of what applies.
Nature is already quieter; many bird species are already heading south. The nights get longer and the cold approaches. The calmness slowly descends over us when the season change is underway again. Lovely!
Summer is here, great! First kayaking trip completed. If paragliding is freedom in the sky, then kayaking is freedom at sea. Both are refined nature experiences, subtle silence, and freedom to be where rarely others are. You move quietly and show up unexpectedly, which is why it is important to respect the home peace zone for both humans, animals, and breeding birds.
When we are free from our work with nature reserves, we like to visit other nature reserves … Okay, a little geeky maybe, but it is relaxing and interesting to visit other types of nature than the ones we find on a daily basis. Last time we visited Gullrosas Berg (Mountain). Gullrosa is a traditional name for a cow, and according to legend, a cow of that name should have crashed and died in the ravines that run across the mountain plateau and the reserve. Nowadays there are no grazing cows in the area, it is exclusively a nature reserve and outdoor area.
Cloudberry flowers and common cottongrass shone white on the marshes. Atmospheric, hope for good berry season this year.
The varied forest and beautiful views made the visit pleasant. A nice reserve that we would love to visit again. We walked the “tough” trail with a little steeper section, the family trail may be next time.
In conclusion, I would like to tell you that we were ringing this year’s new golden eagle kids this week. In one of the nests, which I could not see into but had only heard one kid, there turned out to be two. Both in good health. Lovely! Three kids ringed total.
It’s 13
degrees below zero, light snow and virtually no wind. The silence is present in
the way it always is, in the light poor part of the year. A distant call from a
swan on the way to warmer regions, the sound of the paddle caressing water and
the crispy sound of crumbling new ice. Magical.
The ice is
covering the bays; maybe it’s the season’s final kayaking. Soon, the lake is
completely covered with ice. A gigantic start and landing place for paramotor
flight, beautiful. There are always other opportunities for enjoyment of
life.
I got to
play icebreaker for a while. Ridiculous, but a bit of fun anyway, but childish
… yes yes, I know!
The beach
at Kläggen, our nearest swimming lake, is abandoned long ago. Swimwear
exchanged for snowmobile suit, harsh times lie ahead.
Finally
paddle premiere, late in the year but unforgettable. To paddle in the moonlight
is an experience that we enjoy too infrequently, it often goes years between.
Aunt and I
set course across flat calm water when the full moon rose over Rowan Hill.
Darkness fell quickly as it does this time of year, it was chilly and mist rose
from the slightly warmer water. The moonlight painted the tracks of our journey
in silver. It was magical.
Sound
carries well over water and get another character in the dark. A distant diesel
engine who struggling in
an uphill, a grey heron that
scream out his dissatisfaction when we probably raise it from its rest, geese
chatting from the beach and the calm evocative sound of the paddle, leaving the
water.
Fog veils
thickened and for a moment, we thought that the Black Pearl coming towards us,
but it was probably just a small island, we believe …
At last! First kayaking this year. A rather cold morning, windy and a few degrees below zero but absolutely wonderful. Birdsong, mostly chaffinch. Some Canadian geese, lapwings and cranes. Saw two pairs of teals, first ones this spring.
Began with Röjdälven (Grubbed river?), downstream, good speed on the water. There are traces of beavers everywhere. A stunning rat and a big modifier of the landscape.
Then a small river named Hasslan. Calm and peaceful. Perfect start to the day, especially when the afternoon consists of working with a bellowing chainsaw.
Upstream, the lake Kläggen. Here you have to lift your kayak past the floodgates.
