On the beach stands an abandoned fishing cabin, several spikes in the sand for fishers to dry their nets. When it rains, you can find shelter here and leave a message in the guestbook. Another day in Paradise, it reads. Yet it’s not raining, and it is not going to rain either. We can tell from the sky it is going to be a beautiful day.
Haväng is prettiest in the morning, about half an hour before sunrise, when the heather is still crisp, and the horizon slowly transforms into a Mark Rothko painting. Here we walk among animals: sheep, horned dung beetles, pearl-bordered fritillary butterflies. We almost step on some sea holly because we get distracted by a flock of swans, skimming the surface of the water.
We automatically whisper, when we pass Havängdösen, a 5500-year-old megalith, Ales Stenar’s little sister. The best is yet to come. The reflection of tree roots in the Verkeå river, which discharges into the Baltic Sea. The sunbeams above it. Almost imperceptibly, the day has begun.
On the Skåneleden near Haväng
Photo: Frits Meyst, WideOyster.com