Ingrid is away on a scout hike this weekend, which gave me that little nudge to also go out. So Eric, Adrian and I went for a spring walk.

Spring is at its best in leafy places, where there is birdsong and flowers, not in pine forests. I vaguely recalled a woodland with anemone carpets in Hansta. I wasn’t 100% sure of its location, but when we got there, it was exactly where I thought it was, and fully as lovely as I remembered it.

Last time we cycled past the woodland and only took a brief look. This time we left the bikes at home and walked, and took a smaller zig-zaggy path instead of the wide, cycle-friendly track.

Adrian found plenty of great sticks. (That was his main reason for preferring walking to cycling. You can’t pick up and carry sticks and staves on a bike.)

I spotted a black woodpecker. Well, first I heard it. I’d never heard one before – its call is not what I would expect from a woodpecker!

Later during the day we also saw a grass snake. They’re pretty common, I think, but I don’t see them often; this was a rare chance.

There were several concrete foxholes dotted around the forest. (Of the military kind, not the kind that foxes dig and live in.) In surprisingly good shape, given how old they must be.

We made our way to the wetlands near Väsby. There were probably all sorts of interesting birds there, but none of them had the courtesy to come close to the trail. The only ones I could see were the large, visible ones (one pair of whooper swans with their young) and the ones who are used to humans (plenty of geese and ducks).

The cafe at Väsby farm was closed, but we came prepared with sandwich materials, hot and cold drinks, and flapjacks. And because the cafe was closed, there were plenty of free seats and tables in the sun.

Adrian reduced his stick collection to just one ultimate walking stick and walked with it all day. And it was a really nice one – a straight, smooth piece of some deciduous tree, maybe aspen or hazel. Unfortunately it was a good bit taller than Adrian so whenever he waved around with it, or even walked carelessly, it came dangerously close to our faces, so Eric and I kept our distance to that stick.

When we came out of the woods again near the parking lot, Adrian finished off the walk by picking dandelions. They do quite well in a vase, apparently. At night they close up as if they had wilted, but they open again with the sun the next morning.