Doverodde Diary: Day 20 - To The End

There’s a local idiom for strolling to the end of the jetty and turning round, returning: al vende bro, literally, to turn the bridge. Over the years, as more and more boats have sought moorings here, the jetty has grown longer, and there are new bridges to turn. The timber extensions crook across the fjord, pinching vessels within their planks.

It takes four and a half minutes to walk from my desk to the very end of the jetty. I make the short journey several times a day - it is easy to spend as long looking into the water as writing about the water. And after all, the bridge has two ends at which to turn.

Doverodde Diary: Day 19 - Education

How many sea urchins in the wheelbarrow? The adults can no longer remember, but the children keep on guessing.

Doverodde Diary: Day 18 - Orientation

If you get lost, you can find your way by the trees. They lean eastwards, blown by the wind.

Doverodde Diary: Day 17 - Flat Stars

I spot a new starfish nearly every day in Doverodde. They are usually dried to the jetty, and sometimes they have been flattened by vehicles. The funny thing about starfish is that they never look unhappy, even when they’re dead.

Doverodde Diary: Day 16 - Blue China

The breakfast china is decorated with English ruins. The blue pattern on the cups and saucers matches, but the shallows of the saucers do not fit the base of every cup. Two sets have been mixed up.

I drink my tea, thinking of the chart that shows the depth of the fjord: deep blue by the shore, then rings of lighter blue, then white. There’s a tideline in the cup: a film of tannin clings to the glaze. Why are the depth contours on the chart so definite when water levels rise and fall every day? Why do we decorate the insides of cups? There is not enough time over breakfast to answer these questions.

Doverodde Diary: Day 15 (Sunday Special) - On Woodpiles

Welcome to World of Exteriors, the Doverodde Diary’s Sunday Lifestyle Feature.

Never mind books – woodpiles are the medium of the moment in Doverodde. But books and woodpiles are not so far removed from each other. After all, some books are made from paper, and some paper is made from trees.

Not only do the two objects share a common physical origin, but their kinship is reflected in their etymology (the word for ‘beech tree’ is the root of the word ‘book’ in many European languages) [Enough intellectual stuff for a Sunday – Ed.]. Therefore it seems appropriate to dedicate this World of Exteriors Sunday Special to the not-so-humble Danish woodpile. 

The working woodpile often lurks in shady garage corners.

A modest woodpile decorates a simple hilltop home.

The woodpile may move beyond mere functionality to encompass land art.

The same residence boasts a colour-coordinated seasonal log display.

A rough urban look can be achieved even in this rural backwater 

with the aid of a garbage bin, plastic sheeting and forsythia.

For some, the woodpile is just part of a wider engagement 

with the plein air lifestyle.

Is this a woodpile – or just a pile of wood? 

Frank Lloyd Wright's legacy informs this organic woodpile,

which seamlessly reflects the lines of the architecture around it.

And finally, the images above and below prove that - in Doverodde, at least - 

artists' books dare to aspire to the status of the woodpile.

Doverodde Diary: Day 14 - The Amateur Geologist

Looking for fossils, she found flowers.

Or rather, looking for thunderstones, she found lilies. Is it any better to be precise?