travels with janne

One of the things I truly enjoy while staying at my cabin on Tupper Lake in Nova Scotia is to sit and observe. I call the place “Nature’s Nest”. Hummingbirds whiz busily by all day long, the local beaver glides through the water in search of food at dawn and dusk, bald eagles and ospreys soar in the sky, loons call to each other with their haunting sound and frogs made strange noises at unpredictable hours. The first video has the sound of the loons while the second one shows the birds on the water. Don’t forget to turn on your sound!

I particularly enjoy the changing light. It is like looking at new paintings every day. The following pictures are from sunrises:

The next photos are from afternoons:

The following photos were taken during the evening:

This is the earliest in the season I have ever stayed at the cottage, so I was delighted to discover several flowers I had not seen before, among them what I think might be a snakemouth orchid:

I also noticed that the sundew had flower stalks, which I have never seen before:

These fascinating carnivores have sticky droplets that ensnare insects. The more insects they can consume, the better the flowering, apparently. Makes sense:

Other nifty flowers on my land were Virginia meadow beauty, pickerel weed and some I don’t know the names of:

I also saw a barred owl (try googling “barred owl sound” to hear their strange call), a fat larva that looked like a banana, and several white-tailed deer, including fawns, met a green frog, and made friends with a little chipmunk.

Because it is fall, there are mushrooms here, there and everywhere. Not only are they fascinating to look at; they also have a wonderfully earthy, mushroom-y smell. Unfortunately, I don’t recognise any of the them, because they are different from the ones in Denmark, with which I am more familiar. So it is look but don’t eat!

The autumn hues are a combination of red, orange, yellow, russet and green. The most startling red and orange hues are from the maple trees – mostly sugar maple, I think, which also gift us with tasty maple syrup in the spring. Is it any wonder that the Canadians have chosen to have a maple leaf in their flag?

I am pleased to have been chosen as the babysitter of Ziggy, my friends’ cat, while they are away for a few days. Ziggy and I chill out together, enjoying the sunsets.

Naturally, I also enjoy visiting my friends at their beautiful place while they are at home. My visits include swimming in the lake, which is much deeper and larger than Tupper Lake. It is quite brisk to be swimming in the fall!

Every time I come to Nova Scotia, I visit Kejimkujik National Park and National Historic Site, which is a mere 20-minute drive from my cottage. This year, I have put it off as long as possible to make sure I catch the blaze of autumn colours.

In the park’s 404 km2, nature reigns supreme. The hiking paths are cleared and the camping and picnic sites maintained, of course, but otherwise Mother Nature takes care of itself. This results in a dynamic landscape which may change over time, as nature sees fit. Fallen trees provide nutrients for mushrooms, insects and bacteria.

There are forests, lakes, rivers, bogs, marshes, and meadows. Meadows may grow into forests, forests may become open meadows, e.g. due to fire or hurricanes, and beaver activity may flood areas and make them boggy and marshy.

Underneath it all is rocky, boulder-strewn land with just a thin layer of soil – the result of glaciation. The fir trees grow best on the thin layer of soil. Here a boulder and a tree cosy up to each other.
Glaciers left behind mounds of soil, so-called drumlins, where the fertile layer was a bit deeper. This is why you often see farms located on hilltops. In Kejimkujik there used to be a farm, but it was taken over by the national park and allowed to revert to its natural state. Now it is beautiful woodland and home to many wild animals.

The Mersey River is beautiful at all times of year. I am happy to experience the autumn palette for the first time.

I have previously canoed and camped in the backcountry. Today I just go for walks on the park’s various short hiking routes. In this way, I take in a variety of landscape types and tot up about 10 km of walking. Next year, I hope to try out some of the longer hiking paths that would each take more or less a full day to walk.

There are many different animal species here, including mink, flying squirrel, beaver, black bear, bald eagle and loon. The park also has Atlantic Canada’s greatest diversity of reptiles and amphibians. I like the idea that instead of removing unpleasant things, such as poisonous plants or dangerous animals, a sign is put up to warn visitors.

Although I am perfectly satisfied to stay at Nature’s Nest, enjoying the tranquil atmosphere, watching the beaver swimming in the lake in the dusk, and following the gradually changing autumn foliage, I also go for occasional forays into the outside world. Even just driving from A to B, such as packing out the garbage or going shopping for groceries, offers pleasing views.

One day, my neighbours drop by and we take a walk on their lovely piece of land, which is across the road from mine. We have given each other permission to “trespass” on each other’s properties for the purposes of picking cranberries, taking pictures, walking, swimming, etc. It is so nice to have neighbours that are willing to share. Here are some views from their land.

Another day I go for a longer drive that takes me through the fertile Annapolis Valley. On the highway it dawns on me that it is the Thanksgiving holiday long weekend, so there are more cars and people than I had anticipated. Thanksgiving is not a tradition in Denmark, so I had completely forgotten about it. It is still a bit early in this area for stupendous fall colours, but I find a lookout point that offers amazing views of the landscape.

One of the reasons that the land is fertile is that the world’s highest tides rush in over the land twice a day from the Bay of Fundy bringing nutritious fine and silty soil. The video was taken when the tide was sloshing in. In the background you can see Cape Blomidon, or Cap Baptiste, as the Acadians called it before the English usurped them. This area is the setting for the book I am struggling to write.

I reach a Mi’kmaq town, Bear River, at around suppertime. By now, the tide has turned and you can see the river bottom as well as the stilts that the houses are built on.
On the way home, dusk begins to fall giving everything a warm glow.

Finally, after a two-year absence, I am back in my magical place “Nature’s Nest” on Tupper Lake in Nova Scotia. Due to covid, Canada did not allow entry to foreigners until September 7, so I was forced to take an autumn holiday. No worries – autumn is a stunning time of year in eastern Canada.

When I arrive, the leaves have just started to turn. Day by day, the colours everywhere become more intense and widespread. Three weeks later, the landscape is aflame with red, yellow and orange from the deciduous trees interspersed with dark green from the fir trees.

A tranquil treasure
The colours on my own property are also pretty stupendous, whether in sunshine or fog.

I spend my time slowly. In the mornings, the water is completely still. The rising mist adds a sense of mystery. Don’t forget to turn on the sound if you want to hear what I am saying.

The quiet mornings are a good time for canoeing. I feel as if I have the whole world to myself. Sometimes I just let the canoe glide along slowly, without paddling.

From the canoe I can view my house from a distance. I can also visit the neighbouring beaver lodge.

The first few days are warm enough for sitting outdoors or swimming. Later, I move indoors to do some writing. The lovely, peaceful view is very inspirational.

Sometimes, when my father was sitting gazing into the middle distance, I would ask him what he was doing. He would say, “Sometimes I sit and think and sometimes I just sit.” Well, that is also how I spend a lot of my time here. Just sitting. Looking at the same view but in different kinds of light.

The nights here are pitch black, so it is great for viewing the moon and stars. Note the sliver of moon in the top of the photo. It looks like a nail clipping.

Sometimes I go for walks on my property, either along the rocky shore or in the wild, untamed wood.

The days continue to grow shorter. The sun is a rare guest and darkness envelops us like a blanket. Forest, meadow and moor have gone into hibernation. This is a time when Nature looks inwards, a time to reflect and be introspective.

As the winter solstice approaches, I think back on the many wonderful hours I have enjoyed in nature in the year gone by. Short and long hikes, primitive camping, swimming in a forest lake, being with friends, and picnics and coffee breaks accompanied by a good book with nature as a backdrop.

Aside from the enjoyment of just being there, I have enjoyed observing and photographing the light in its various embodiments. In many cases light in itself creates the picture. At other times light transforms a mundane scene to one with drama, atmosphere or a burst of colour.

When the sun hangs low in the sky, the landscape often takes on a soft and dreamy look.

A gentle dream can change to a dramatic scene like in these two photos taken in the same place but at different times.

Sometimes wild clouds create suspense. Sometimes the absence of clouds directs your attention towards the infinite.

Sometimes the sky is heart wrenchingly blue; other times it is as dark grey as a war. Sometimes the light is strangely indeterminate; other times it breaks out in song, and sometimes the only light is from a silvery moon.

Light is more than absence of darkness, just as happiness is more than absence of grief. It is a source of wonder, amazement and admiration. Light helps us view things in different ways, dependent on its mood that particular day. Sometimes light gives rise to reflections, where things are repeated and turned upside down.
Sometimes light creates its own colours – in a rainbow, a leaf, a forest floor, a flooded field or ocean and sky.

The winter solstice will soon be upon us. We can use it to reflect on being grateful for what we have. In the midst of this dark time love, friendship and hope are the best illumination. The shortest day reminds us of the light we are missing, but is also the day when we look forward, where winter turns into spring. We will soon embrace a season that chases darkness away, where days reign victorious over nights, and nature awakens with new life.

Although I have spent many happy hours this year in South Jutland and North Jutland, most of my summer has been spent within a 50-kilometre radius from home here in West Jutland. As I look back at the many photos I have taken this year, I feel so grateful to have the time and freedom to spend hours outdoors, and grateful to be mobile enough to explore.

From spring to autumn Mother Nature has a full colour palette, from douche brown, green, grey and white to vibrant red, yellow, blue, purple and orange.

All the pictures are from within 50 km of where I live.

Since I was not able to travel to my cherished spot in Nova Scotia in Canada this summer, I intensified my explorations of Denmark, in particular Jutland. Happily, this part of the world also has a lot to offer.

In North Jutland a friend and I spent time in his favourite local hangout, a place called Lille Vildmose. The area used to be used for digging up peat but now it is given over to nature and has been rewilded with moose. It is no longer drained and the resulting wetlands attract many birds.

Later in the summer, the same friend and I spent another day in the west of North Jutland in an area called Thy National Park. What attracts us is the relatively rare flower Marsh gentian, which in turn attracts the relatively rare Alcon blue butterfly. We were lucky to spot both (my friend is an expert).

In between the national park and Vildmose lie the hills Rebild Bakker and the enchanting forest Rold Skov with an indescribably lovely lake. The water comes from many underwater springs that are pressed upwards through calcium-rich cracks – hence the turquoise colour.

 In between my visits in the north, I visited the so-called Seven Year Lakes in South Jutland with some other friends. These lakes only appear in certain years, which is a shame, because they are lovely to behold – and it is always an added bonus to see wildlife.