Back at the beach house. We’re here to sow the poppy seed and surround ourselves in Danish summer. The sun rises before 4.30am and sets at 10pm. It’s never really dark. These are the long days of lazy bike rides by the sea.
The Icelandic horses have had a foal. Lazing now in the buttercup meadow, just its tail swishing at flies. The fields are scattered with wild orchids, shots of purple among the gold. Overhead, skylarks flutter and call. Peewits harass an egg-hunting rook.
