Henrik Hageland
Bio
A poet, a writer of feelings and hope. A Dane and inhibitant of the Earth thinking about what is to come.
A good story told or invented. Human all the way through.
Want to know more? Visit Substack , my YouTube Channel or TikTok.
Stories (109)
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Winds of Change: How I Balance Between Personal Loss and Climate Crisis
Introduction The winds of change are blowing, both in my personal life and across our shared planet. The death of my husband has upended my world, just as climate change shakes the very foundation of life for all of us.
By Henrik Hagelandabout a year ago in Earth
Lessons of the Forest: A Mother's Tale
I hide in the darkness. I am hungry and need to go out to the field to eat something. But just a moment ago, another one of those monsters with blinding, shining eyes came by, making strange noises. They are unfriendly and frightening.
By Henrik Hagelandabout a year ago in Earth
Between Lines and Colors - A Writers and his Palette!. Honorable Mention in New Year, New Projects Challenge.
Images. Words. Connections. Where? How? Who? When? Last year, I wrote a lot and often found myself describing images that lived inside my mind. These could be memory flashes from a now-distant childhood or youth. Events along my journey through the day and life, big or small.
By Henrik Hagelandabout a year ago in Motivation
Magic of Christmas Played at Little Christmas Eve
I just turned 60 years old. A quick calculation takes us back to 1964. Of course, I can’t remember the first few years—who can? The earliest Christmases I recall were spent with my grandparents. But every year, we had a Christmas tree at home, which we danced around (YES, that’s a Danish tradition) on Christmas Day. Just to avoid any confusion: Little Christmas Eve was December 23rd, Christmas Eve was December 24th, and Christmas Day was December 25th.
By Henrik Hagelandabout a year ago in Families
A Place Called Home
They had slowly crept out of the city. Soaked roads, sleet pounding down around the car. They had just filled up the tank; after all, they needed to get there. He loved the smell of gasoline; it promised power and speed ahead. And yet, it was fleeting.
By Henrik Hagelandabout a year ago in Families
