the endless wooden path or the old moor:
On a sunny autumn afternoon we were driven to the old moor to soak up the very special peace and atmosphere that prevails in such old places.
Legends surround these places and myths - everything that is forgotten or simply pushed aside in our fast-moving times. It's these things that make life worth living...
So in peace and quiet and on foot, wringing out their secrets from the old places is never a waste of time
Unexpectedly one can come across high moors in the dark black forest... these old heavy areas where you can hardly breathe on hot summer days and where a very special feeling rises in you... Places where time seems to have passed and where it doesn't matter if you're there or not... because long after even your descendants won't talk about you anymore, it'll still be there just like the day you went there and you'll be there again and again, and if there are years in between, at some point you will be drawn back to soak up the atmosphere that is in the air.
"Yes, old Moor can captivate you."
So on this beautiful autumn afternoon it called out to us and fueled the inner desire again.... then there is no stopping you and you do without your moped and everything else, you accept the 30 km ride and also the 6 km Walk until you are in the middle of it and enjoy being here again....
already at the beginning of our journey these old dead trees greet us and you pay your respects to them and think about what these old trees witnessed from the history you learned in school.... I think they could tell us many things.. .
and again and again a small stream seems to come out of nowhere and carries its brown but clear water somewhere... the landscape has not yet revealed this secret and you would do well not to leave the wooden path... otherwise it could be very easy that you become a part of this landscape and that you too belong to the things around which so many stories are entwined...
sometimes it flows very leisurely and then again it jumps splashing between roots over a staircase of stones that it has colored black over the years... it feels good to breathe in the freshness it brings and the heavy air of the old moor to repress....
... then when you like it, the creek collects in small ponds and it offers a spectacle that you can only experience there.... it seems as if the creek does not transport water but springs directly from a Düsseldorf Altbier tap .. . in these colors framed by the green of the moss, it shows all the splendor of nature in which you are immersed...
... on the other side of the road, a colony of wood ants has built a castle and is busy collecting the needles of the crooked pine that feels at home here. Their hustle and bustle shows you that life pulsates in its own way in these places too, without technology and the Internet and without stress ...
... as you continue, your view of all the beauty opens up and you discover that the old moor not only enables the wood ants to survive. No, you, too, have plenty of things to set the table this autumn afternoon, the blue blueberries are shining at you and you are trying to catch a few...
... the red moorberries shine in the sun and invite you to nibble with their sweet fruits ...
... while the black berries with their long tendrils of thorns defend themselves against you enjoying their delicious fruits...
... back on the path at the edge of which the moor welcomes you with bright flowers and know for sure that you followed his call and not at all otherwise you could ...
... past a bit more open places where the heather is blooming and the insects pursue their collecting instincts...
... ultimately back to the moor forests with their spooky seemingly fallen trees waiting for fungi and moss to make them part of the bog...
... unexpectedly the forest thins out and you suspect that you will soon have the secret of the moor in front of your eyes. The sun's rays penetrate to the ground and a dense grassy landscape forms under the trees... far away you can hear the calls of wild ducks and the croaking of moor frogs...
... made...
before you lies a dream of an open bog lake with its calm smooth surface...
The autumn sun is reflected in it and you can breathe freely again because the heaviness of the moor somehow recedes in front of the lake... sitting on an old log and looking freely over the water you forget the time and the people around you don't want to more away from here....
... have to go again...
at some point something inside you tells you that you have to open up and experience that and bring the atmosphere of this old moor into your life and everyday life.
So you get up without a word and walk again along this endless wooden path, look around a few more times and know exactly that you will always sit here to enjoy the old moor....
...until next time in the moor...
Addendum 2015:
so we won't come back here... Sabine has succumbed to her cancer and whether I will ever see the old trees again is questionable... but the ways of our Lord are known to be unfathomable and we just don't know.
... and that's just as well