Saturday, February 4, 2017

The lonesome Lodbjerg Lighthouse in Thy National Park

Lodbjerg Lighthouse, Thy National Park, North West Coast of Jutland, Denmark
It was on one of those uplifting days in January that we went from the east coast of Jutland and drove for two hours straight before making it on the opposite northern coast to Thy National Park. There in the heart of the large heath and plantation area of Denmark's oldest and biggest national park, stands the 35 meter tall lighthouse by the name Lodbjerg Lighthouse in all solitude among his forest friends of scots pines and other trees. Our visit to this lonesome lighthouse had been in delay for months as we were suppose to go here during summer last year but we never got around to it. That day, however, seemed like the perfect day to take off to this wild and windy part of the Danish West Coast as winter for once showed signs of blue sky and mild weather. At first the long drive felt a little disencouraging as we knew the early sunset would leave us with only few hours of daylight to visit the area. Nevertheless, all of our concerns were erased as soon as we arrived and enthusiasm immediately blossomed within us.
Lodbjerg Lighthouse is open daily and for a small fee guests can climb the stairs and witness what is hidden behind the narrow wooden door at the top. Nothing less than a great view of all-embracing dune heats, stretching to the very border where land meets ocean, revealed itself in front of us as we went upstairs and gazed across the west coast. The sun was trying to beat its way through a small cluster of clouds and it was only a matter of time before it would succeed and give way to hues of gold shimmering on the crusty landscape. We both stood waiting for that exact moment as long as we could, but the ice cold wind blew harder than expected, forcing us to quickly retreat back inside. Our shivering cold fingers begged for a small tea break before we marched out into the open dune heats to catch the light, we felt was coming.
Walking between the dunes we talked about the past few winters and how winter behaviour certainly is not what it used to be. Our childhood memories strongly recall landscapes blanketed in snow - not for the entire season but at least for more than two days. Lately it seems that these wintery images will be limited to scrapbook collections and "back in the days"-stories past down to coming generations. Winter has once again delighted us with it's schizophrenic behaviour: One day the weather is moody and dull, the next it is boosting with warmth. My expectations of snow has gone down to below zero percent. Today I was certainly caught by surprise - suddenly snowflakes came dancing from the sky. These angelic crystals gracefully settled themselves in the golden dune heaths, but not for long, quickly they disappeared again. For five minutes we stood in ecstatic wonder and watched how the snow magically drizzled over the landscape. Both of us felt pure joy from the visual stimuli that suddenly appeared around us. It is funny what emotions snowfall can provoke. I become like a baffled kid and I swear, it gets me every time.
As we were marching towards the sea we suddenly became suspicious of a well-defined sandy edge that came before us - a steep eroded sand cliff appeared. This is the very effects of wind, water and sand carving and shaping the land through millions of years. Cautiously we neared the ridge and as we got closer, images of cliff collapsing and me tumbling into the lower coastal floor filled my head. The storming sea was just down there, but it had to wait. Later on we drove over to Agger beach, where we most certainly were not seperated from the water - but that is another story. We climbed one of the taller dunes and watched how the waves came raging in and felt the vigorous wind pushing our bodies, attempting to blow us off the edge. Before heading back to Lodbjerg Lighthouse we gathered in the grass, seeking cover from the hard wind and to defrost our frozen fingers once again. The sun accompanied us and as we thought the view could not get any better, a rainbow was vaguely painted in the sky and the windblown grass became bathed in an intensified golden glow.

Thank you winter, for behaving so nicely that day.