Every Christmas for as long as I can remember, celebrating Christmas also means a long walk at the beach. Actually, whenever I’m visiting my parents I try also to visit the sea. It is really like seeing an old friend.
The Danish West Coast is wild and roaring. The waves are seldom gentle. And I think that is why I cherish it so much. The brutal, real nature.
Instead of going to church on Christmas Eve, my mom and I went to greet the sea. Church of the real, eh? It looked like this:
Christmas Day, my family and I went for a longer walk. The light was quite spectacular. Like an 1800-century painting. So, naturally I couldn’t keep my phone/camera pocketed.
I remember, when I was a little girl, my mom would always bring a camera. Old skool Leica or something like that. Then it was my big sister, and now it is my little bro and I. He is quite the storm tourist, and perhaps a photographer in the making? See for yourself at the very bottom of this saltwater infused photo galore.
As you see, there are still very real memories of WWII on the Danish shoreline. Bunkers are scarring the landscape. Although I find them beautiful in their own way. Like wrinkles on the face of the Earth. Memories of a time long gone by, that shaped Denmark into what it is now. Got me contemplating about how lucky I am, growing up in a time without wars. Of course there are wars. Denmark has even taken part in some very recently. But not within its own borders.
Looking at bunkers can make your own problems (thesis trouble) seem very meaningless and silly.
Don’t forget to get some perspective.