Tisvilde
Tisvilde is an incredible part of Denmark and a place I have been fortunate enough to have access to since I first visited this country about ten years ago. There's the beach with its almost Medetaranian-like waters , the forest with paths that wind through gnarled trees, the old house, Amigo which has known me since the days my son nestled himself deep within my womb. Amigo is a simple house, of aged wood and memories, caressed regularly by the gentle roll of the train coming and going. Yesterday I lost myself in meditation as I mowed the lawn, and thought how universal the smell of freshly cut grass must be. While I did so, a deer rushed past, not before staring me full in the eyes. There is something magical about being stared in the eyes by a wild animal. I'm quiet again. Like the sea I have retreated to the ocean of my soul. I am preparing for my move: something which, if approached haphazardly, could very well threaten what semblance of sanity I have managed to construct....