it is decided we will walk to see the glow worms. our host insists we abandon footwear in order to more intensely experience the paths thither. barefoot in the night we make our way through the fringes of suburbia. a full moon hangs low, the seven sisters are still keeping orion at bay. the gravel gnaws sharply at our feet.
suddenly our guide stops at what appears in the gloaming to be a large black hole in a thickly forested patch by edge of the road. switching on his torch a set of steep steps is revealed, literally ledges in a cliffside. they tumble down to a rivulet, and we feel as if we might, as well. climbing steep objects in the dark calls on all the senses.
standing in the stream, we see the mouth of a low tunnel and crouching, we enter. that two of our company are speaking danish makes it feel as though we are undertaking a journey as part of a fairytale or saga. perhaps this tunnel was dug by hobbits. i banish thoughts of giant spiders still any minute i expect Grindel to erupt vengefully from some unseen orifice.
meanwhile the torchlight dances on the water showing rare wild scaleless fish, even a small eel. i find eels slightly unnerving, though beautiful, especially when the feet are taking a path which is only fitfully illuminated. our host dowses his light and presently the cave walls are dotted with hundreds of magical bright blue gleaming spots... and words fail me... glow worms!