The Garden

A blog by Marijn van Hoorn

My special place

Marijn van Hoorn
A thicket of trees rises up from a farm filled with wheat.

There’s this place i like to go when out for a walk. It’s this little patch of woodland, nestled in between these two tracts of farms.

A dirt path, covered in snow, winds its way up from the bank of a stream.

A small sylvan stream runs through its middle, crossed by an aging wooden bridge. The council went in and replaced some missing steps recently, but who knows how long the rest will last?

A bridge crosses a river, surrounded by tangled trees. A sign placed by the county council reads ‘Caution: damaged bridge’.

I go here to think. I go here to meditate. I go here to write. I go here to calm myself down.

I don’t really have a point in writing this post. I just wanted to share something that makes me happy with you all.

The aforementioned bridge, viewed from the other side, showing a set of steps leading down to it.

On the way back from capturing photos and footage for this post, i slipped and fell on the ice. I’m fine, but my arse and left elbow were in pain for a bit! Here's the crater left by my behind:

A cracked dent in the middle of a sheet of ice.