Lockdown Life: Sometimes You Just Need a Change of Scenery!

As the title suggests, sometimes we just need a change of scenery.

Sadly, in this day and age, that can be easier said than done... and I realized that the best I could do at this particular moment was change the "landscape" of my header image, to something of which I have fond memories.

To pan out a bit, my new header was cropped from this picture taken at Tisvildeleje beach in Denmark, not far from where I grew up. It's a bright summer day in late June, 2015.

The beach today doesn't look all that different from how it looked when I was a little kid, going to the beach with my parents or my auntie.

Even the houses in the dunes and hills behind beach have not changed much since the 1960's.

I have lived in the USA for 40 years now, and I sometimes pause and consider what it is that I enjoy the most about our visits back to Denmark; those odd indicators that tell us what "expats" just can't seem to find in the countries they have moved to.

Aside from certain food items — freshly smoked mackerel, sausages from a Copenhagen street vendor, a certain type of beer that's not exported — what I often long for is a certain sense of permanence of many things that's typically missing in the US.

This particular view (above) from the road as we head back from the beach to our family summerhouse also looks the same as it ever did.

On the opposite side of the road, the Tibirke church, which is about as typical a Danish village church as you can possibly get.

The oldest part of the church dates to 1120-30 or thereabouts, an absolutely unfathomable age to most people living in the US.

I look at these photos today, and it "feels" a certain way that is almost imprinted on my bones. I suppose that no matter how long we live in a place, it never quite feels the same as where our original "roots" were.

The "summerhouse" where we stay is also an integral part of my history on this planet... my grandparents built it in 1939, and besides having had the thatched roof replaced a couple of times, it is a "point of permanence" in my life.

My auntie — who in part raised me — lived here from about 1966 till her death in 1997. Somehow, it stayed in the family, and is now used as a sort of private "timeshare" by nine families that make up the "following generations."

What I most remember cannot be reproduced, except in my mind's eye:

Sitting on that terrace with my auntie after dinner, watching the fading light turn golden as the sun would slowly set and illuminate the lavender with its own color.

And such is the fabric of our lives: A series of "moments" and memories.

I am grateful for them all.

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful rest of your weekend!

How about YOU? Do you have a favorite place of "meaning" to you? Do you sometimes go there, in your mind? Do you think they could be useful? Give me a shout back... Because — after all — SOCIAL content is about interacting, right? Leave a comment — share your experiences — be part of the conversation!

(All text and images by the author, unless otherwise credited. This is ORIGINAL CONTENT, created expressly for this platform — NOT A CROSSPOST!!!)
Created at 20210227 20:25 PST
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