IT HAD TO BE

a walk in the forest that we liked to do for our last day here.
The thick mist lifted in the morning and the sun started to shine nice and warm.
I had taken a lot of pictures in the mist of tiny cobwebs, hanging on the wiesteria buds, but no memory card in my camera and no way to get them in my laptop.
The forest had that fairy tale atmosphere that only in early spring appears.
The little green leaves, the smell of old wood, and yes we saw a boar, disappearing behind a bush high op the hill.
We dismantled the butterfly shelter, the moth had disappeared, looking perhaps for a better place and we want later make the openings smaller so that birds or other creatures can not reach anyone inside, if a new visitor would decide to live there.
When we reached nearly home after our walk, I saw the butterfly on the pulmonaria field, flying from one flower to the other. The Orange Tip butterfly.
In the afternoon we lazily sat on the terrace, our walk had been quite long.
Mischa has an insect too on her journal today, you can see the sweet one here.

My haiku:

Deep in the forest
Where the trees stand close no sound
But only bird songs

And the proverb:

We must not lie down, and cry, God help us.

1611 in: Chapman, May-Day