[definition of hygge]
a quality of cosiness and comfortable living that engenders a feeling of contentment and well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).
Add a little hygge to each month
Coming home from Denmark to Australia at the very start of spring feels like stepping into a brighter rhythm. The air is softer, touched with the scent of wattle, and everything seems to hum with new life.
Six tiny kids were waiting for me – clumsy, joyful bundles of energy. On weekend mornings I have been sitting in the paddock among the goats, watching the little ones at play, learning who belongs to whom, slowly piecing together their family tree. It’s the gentlest way to begin the day.
In the orchard, my first lemons glowed like small treasures. Juicy and golden, some went straight into jars of salted lemons – sunshine preserved for the months ahead. I’ve shared my favourite recipes for preserved lemons, in the hope they bring a little brightness to your kitchen too.
And everywhere, the colour yellow seems to follow me – from the lemons to the wattle I gather on morning walks, bouquets now brightening every corner of the house. A month of energy, warmth, and beginnings, painted in the colour of the sun.
Some of that feeling of light and simplicity followed me on the long flight home, where I watched The Summer Book, based on Tove Jansson’s beloved novel. I found it so beautiful – a film that captures the way many Scandinavians embrace summer, with stillness, nature, and quiet moments. It felt like the perfect bridge between leaving Denmark and arriving back here, at the start of my own spring.
Wherever this journal finds you – whether you’re stepping into Spring’s warmth or Autumn’s golden turn – I wish you a wonderful month of September, full of light, colour, and quiet joys.
PRESERVED LEMONS
INGREDIENTS
8 small lemons
8 teaspoons Maldon salt (flakes)
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
Extra fresh lemon juice (to top up, if needed)
Olive oil (to seal the jar)
Wash the lemons well. Halve each lemon lengthwise, then cut each half into quarters — stopping just short of the base so the segments remain connected. Open them gently like a flower.
Sprinkle about a teaspoon of Maldon salt into each cut lemon. Layer the lemons into a sterilised glass jar, adding peppercorns as you go. Press down firmly to release juice.
Continue layering until the jar is full. Pour in extra fresh lemon juice if needed to ensure all lemons are submerged.
Once the lemons are fully covered with juice, pour a thin layer of olive oil on top to create a seal. Close the jar tightly, label, and date it.
Leave the jar in a cool, dark place for at least 4 weeks. Shake it gently every few days during the first week to help the salt dissolve. Once opened, store in the fridge, always making sure the lemons stay submerged under liquid and oil.
BOUQUETS INSIDE & OUT
Wherever I go, I settle in by gathering what the landscape offers — a handful of wildflowers, a sprig of wattle, a branch catching the light just so. Even the simplest bouquet, slipped into a glass bottle, can transform a room. I do it everywhere — even in hotel rooms — as if anchoring myself with petals and leaves. These small arrangements are my way of carrying the spirit of a place indoors, turning any space, however temporary, into something that feels like home. Above and below are my bouquets of the wattle I picked on my morning walk through the bush.
On the plane back to Sydney I watched the film The Summer Book. It is a tender adaptation of Tove Jansson’s classic novel. It tells the story of a grandmother and granddaughter spending a summer together on a small Finnish island, where life is measured by tides, light, and shared silence.
Glenn Close brings quiet depth to the grandmother, while Emily Matthews shines as Sophia, capturing the openness and curiosity of childhood. The island itself becomes a character – moss, rocks, and shoreline all holding a kind of poetry.
The pace is slow, almost drifting, but that’s its beauty: it feels true to the Scandinavian embrace of summer, where each luminous day is savoured and nothing is hurried. For me, it was a moving reminder of how simple moments, when noticed, become the richest ones.
In Denmark, the film is already available to watch here, but in Australia you’ll need to be a little patient – it hasn’t yet been announced where it will screen. It’s definitely worth keeping an eye out for, and I’ll share an update once it arrives, as I would love the chance to see it again. Meanwhile, you can watch the official trailer below.
Do you want to catch up on some of the previous months? Please head to my Journal here: https://lindbjerggraphic.com.au/journal/
Feel free to share “let’s hygge” with a friend…
I wish you a lovely month of September with lots of fun projects and hygge!
One of the kids couldn’t resist sneaking up from behind to check me out — curious eyes and a tiny nose nudging closer, as if to say: who’s this new friend in our paddock?
let’s hygge november
The rhubarb has made its return, and I’m sharing a simple, traditional recipe that brings back wonderful memories from my childhood.
let’s hygge october
I’m taking you on a little trip down memory lane to my days in Rome, visiting my dearest and oldest friend, Charlotte.
let’s hygge AUGUST 2025
We have spent the last month tucked away on our little farm, with paint on our hands, sawdust in our hair, and the happiest kind of chaos.
English 
Danish 