I know well the places I pass, trees and stones stand there as before in their solitude, the leaves rustle under my feet. The monotonous sighing of the wind and the familiar trees and stones means so much to me; I feel a strange sense of gratitude, everything reaches out towards me, bleds with me. I love all things.

Godt sagt! (1) Varsle Svar

Sist sett

PiippokattaMartinBeathe SolbergTine SundalEllen E. MartolritaolineAnne-Stine Ruud HusevågTonje-Elisabeth StørkersenAvaHildeAud- HelenElinBeJakob SæthreKari ElisabethHarald KKirsten LundMartaifartaLars MæhlumToveLene AndresenMads Leonard HolvikAndreas BokleserSolveigHeidiEirin EftevandTanteMamieEivind  VaksvikSinnsfarerReidun SvensliLisbeth Kingsrud KvistenHeidi HoltanAskBurlefotMarenIvar SandMartine GulbrandsenPia Lise SelnesWencheAnn-ElinPer LundAkima Montgomery