Hornbaek Haiku

Am in a corporate training all week about forty minutes north of Copenhagen. The course happens in the hotel where we're staying, which is super-convenient. Luckily the food and hospitality are great... and still, after a while, I just need to get outside and *walk.*

Tonight at about 9:15 I walked through Hornbaek, the small village. I was headed toward the beach. Actually, I wasn't sure where it was, and it is Scandinavian winter -- dark, dark, dark. Most everything is closed. It is quiet.

After a while, that homing beacon anyone who grew up near the ocean has kicked in and I could smell and hear the water before I could see it. I walked through the grounds of a hotel closed til summer and climbed tall, sandy dunes. When I reached the top, I knew it was one of those moments you never forget. I was completely alone on a beach in northern Denmark... just out for an evening stroll. It's quite a life that's led me here.

Ever since a writing workshop I was in a few years ago, when I have one of these exceptionally present, perfect moments, I write haiku in my head. I walked down the beach thinking:

Cold, dark winter's night.
Grassy sand dunes hide the sea.
I can see Sweden.

Back to Lugano tomorrow night and off to London on Sunday! Ciao tutti!