WALKING THE SILVER PATH
It was a very fine walk. I started about 7 pm, and only half
an hour later I was in the forrest, climbing up to that ridge of mountains,
that leads to the Hohenstein... it's a place, that has
been used as a sacred area for hundreds of years by the old saxons until
about 1,000 years ago, when this area here has been christianized. It also
served for gatherings of the tribes, as a Thing-place. And on the top is a place, where some king or chieftain has been buried, about 600 b.c.e.
But everything is in a museum now, as well as rune-stone, which was once found there.
So, I arrived at the top of the ridge, sopping wet and warm . My heart beats like a drum. The hardest part is done now. It's good to make use of those legs after all those years. Before I dive into the forrest, I turn around ... beneath me is the valley, and on the other side I see the village, where I dwell. A little mist is gathering down there and everything is very calm.
No one is in the forrest now besides me. From here it's only a walk of about an hour, the whole distance is about 9 miles or so ... a nice long walk through a forrest of high beeches, like grey pillars, in the green light, that shine through the meanwhile fully developed leaves. Something like wild garlic is growing on the ground, and that smell fills the air nicely. It grows in bog carpets of dark green leaves and white flowers beneath the beeches. The path goes up and down a little, but nothing difficult yet, a nice path for dreaming along while walking. The backpack begin to get heavy, the shoes begin to rub a bit, but in time everything settles down.
I started a bit late and when the path passes places where the sky can be seen, I notice the sun is setting, and the moon is already up. But it seems I'll have a bright sky when I'll arrive at the cliffs. I press on deeper into the forrest again. I see hares, hopping away, while I pass ... hundreds of birds are chatting away. Somewhere in the bushes I hear steps. It's a stag. Now, when the night begins, they are coming out of their hiding places.
The forrest is different now. The bushes are more dense, and some oaks, pines, rowans and ashes are mixing in between the beeches. And I am slowly coming higher and higher. The trees, however, are getting lower and lower. As I come by, I see the first little cliffs and I look down for a moment ... down upon the smaller mountains in front of the big ridge. Sometimes those open up and let me look far into the valley onto the river Weser, little villages, fields, and meadows. The evening mist is rising from the river ...
I am now aproaching the main cliffs. The first, most eastern one is named Green Altar, Devil's Chancel, or Witch's Castle. It's occupied. A a father-and-son-couple with mountain bikes are settling down there. I see them rummaging around, preparing for a campfire. Judged from the amount of dry wood they are collecting, it will be a bonfire :( nothing for me.
So I walk further on to the west. At the main cliff, a tourist's point, there are some middle-aged people, sitting and looking down into the valley. It's called Stag's Jump. There is some story of a hunter and a stag, who jumped down that cliff (the stag, not the hunter). A story, that has it's mythological connections to similar cliffs in other places as well.
Silently I walk by ... approaching the real wild cliffs. The ground is cut into pieces by ravines now. About 2 or 3 feet broad, easy to jump over (at least without a backpack), but deep, moist and dark ... between 30 and 40 feet. Nothing to jump down into, really. So I begin to step more carefully now. This is forbidden area for those reasons of safety, and I have to climb a little fence, near to the edge of the cliffs, to continue my journey. An interesting expierence, with that backpack. Especially since my 7 feet long staff is attached to my backpack :). I get it off the backpack now and begin to use it. But then I am through and cross more ravines. This is the area, where that chieftain has been buried. I approach that most western cliff, world's end so far. I stroll along a little path and the forrest opens ... two people, a couple, roughly my age, are sitting on the cliff, a nice *little* fire is burning. A small, but old white beech spreads it's branches far over the cliff. There is no other place to go, so I step into the lighted circle around the fire, tell them my name and ask for a place at the fire. I get my backpack off, also the shoes and drink a bit water. That couple seems likeminded, and they are nice people. Calm, not loud and rude folks. And as it turns out, we get along well, we don't talk too much, it's a nice evening.
That cliff reaches far out into the air. Far in the west, the sky is still a bit red, but the sun is now gone. The moon is well up already and the first stars are visible. Down in the valley the mists are getting more dense over the river, far away. We gaze to the moon and into the little fire sometimes. It's nice and warm, and from time to time a very gentle breeze is blowing, and the fire get's more lively then. The flames are dancing and the coals are glowing, making little figures and images ...
In the forrest down in the valley, maybe 40 feet below the cliff, we hear stags, they bark like dogs. It must be a fight or so, but nothing to see, of course. From time to time we can hear owls crying, and little bats are flying around our heads, chasing for insects.
Eventually that couple takes out their sleeping bags and they vanish into the forrest. No one needs a tent in this night. The moon is in zenith now, and I begin, what I have come for.
No details here, but I spent maybe an hour or so with getting calm, connecting with the ground, listening, gazing to the moon ... making the commitments I intended. After that I spend another hour, sitting on a stone, looking into the valley, and watching the moon on her journey through the sky, and the stars, slowly turning.
Eventually I crawl into my sleeping bag and lay down at the
edge of the cliff, it is now getting a bit colder, the dark of the night
begins. I still watch the sky over me and sense the ground beneath me.
The eastern sky begins to turn grey, and there I must have doozed off
I awake again, when the sun is well up and I am boiling in
my sleeping bag
They get their things together, say good bye and silently vanish in the forrest.
I stay a while longer, enjoying the sun warming my belly, the sight, flies and bees are humming and birds are singing ...
After a while I get my things together as well and slowly I start my way back. It's near to midday, and quite a few people are in the forrest now, enjoying their own little walk. I go back the same way I came, but I am a bit slower today. My feet are not in such a good condition, they are not yet used to such things again, but slowly my bones are getting warm again and I eventually reach my home.
I gladly retreat into the cool shadows of the house, throw my sweaty clothes from me ... a nice shower, some coffee ... unpacking the backpack ...
And here I am :) Back to RunningWaters :))
