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me near my parents’ house there was a small forest, an island of remaining vegetation. When I quit smoking in my teens, this was where I did my first few rounds of running, often through the evening mist rising from the slimy river. Deer roamed the meadows. In the paintings that were left in the house we moved into, you could see what the landscape was like before industries and the city took over. Here were the traces of an older settlement. When animals grazed in the fields, the land produced potatoes and wheat, and small boats traveled the river. One day the forest disappeared. Instead, it became the golfers’ driving range, open until 9pm. When I returned home on my bike, the entire sky was lit up like a false sunrise. I don’t know where the deer went.
“You happen to go out into the woods. Maybe it’s not as often as you’d like, but sometimes you go out and walk and your self-image is that you’re someone who likes to be in nature. The times when you actually escape too is important for you. […] You are not religious, but when you are alone in nature, you can almost feel that you come in contact with something, not God or something like that directly, but still something out of the ordinary, something deeper and bigger, something that has the meaning of the life. and limits to do. […] That’s why you often long for nature too and think that one day, when it has calmed down a bit with everything, you should organize your life to be closer to it. “
