
There on an old oak pole it hangs, the old rusty horseshoe. Was it dropped by a horse passing on the road to Havstenssund? Perhaps it was simply removed by the blacksmith and replaced with a new one. Tossed away in the corner of the stone fence in a pile with other scrap metal. Was it made in the blacksmith’s workshop I found in december. (Find the story here). Somebody much later picked it up and hanged it on the pole. Now from history to the future it goes on to the world wide web.
Ride on, pilgrim, ha de Gött!




















