January 9, 2017

Made in Danemark

I didn't see much of Denmark. It was grey both times. The bridge was tall and cool. On the opposite way I took the ferry and the sea and sky were frigid concrete, but on the way back we did stop in at a roadside stop, and it was lush and landscaped like nothing here.
I stretched and bounced around and romped off at any roadside stop - finding rocks to jump on or rises to climb to see what was on the other side. I think it was in Denmark I started to walk through the mazical garden, I remember my hands were sticky from food (though I don't remember what), and I heard a bird whistling in 3/4 time.
I've never heard such a thing.
I stood in wonder between the green, and realised - this is how those classical composers came to own the time signature.
They heard it from a little bird.
We are made of our worlds as much as we make them.

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