Grønlandvandfald
“Our pilot is either lost or drunk”
“Our pilot is either lost or drunk”
This post has nothing to do with Denmark, I just wanted to keep my “daily posting” promise.
Pack your folkedragter and meet us at the airport.
Windmills are a symbol of resilience, of our ability to endure in a harsh land.
This windmill taught me that actions have consequences, and that I alone bear responsibility for mine.
Doodling has become a lost art, and the world is less interesting for it.
We caught reflections of those who came before us, and a little of ourselves.
On April 6, 1889, the SS Danmark sank in the mid-Atlantic.
Our Great Grandfather Frederik Bekker was on board.
The inspector took one look at the rank horse, closed the door, and said, “Well, these seem healthy enough.”
Florence Bekker was seven years old, and about to leave the only home she had ever known.