Home Bound 1.3

It's Good Friday.  All the shops are closed, not just the ones that are non-essential, since today is a federal holiday.  I'll skip the oft-mentioned confluence of church and state here and just say, you don't do  w o r k  today.  No washing, no gardening, no thing that makes noise or could disturb your neighbor, literally or figuratively.  

So, a good day for another long walk, and especially so since it's sunny.  But we have to dress warmly, since it's not warmly today.

We had  a lot of back and forth between us about WHERE before we ever got out of the house, but we finally decided on going to the Teufelsmoor (the Devil's Moor), not too far away, but far enough away that we think we won't run into lots of folks. Social Distancing is required here.

Since we'd scarfed down the brownies I'd baked just the other day, I made another apple cake to get us through. We made a little sandwich, sliced some tomatoes, put some cake in a container, made some tea. WE ARE PREPARED.

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Getting to the starting point is no prob and we disembark the car and start and Werner says: Have you got the tea?  Yes.  Have you got the food?  WHAT?  S***.  Didn't you?  No.  Didn't you? No.....

We laugh - or to tell the truth, Werner laughs - and we go on.  Because there is no going back.

It's only an hour-plus walk, starting on nice brickways.  First, herringbone,

then straight works,

later just dirt. It's quite amazing that so many bricks were made and laid for roads so seldom used.  Hundreds of thousands of bricks, placed by hand, for a few farmers.  AND maintained.  These roads have been here for decades...

Walking is easy because it's the moor, so it's very flat.  Earlier, these fields were used to harvest peat.  Not much grows here and folks had a hard, hard time making a living cutting the peat that went to the city to be burned to heat their homes. These days, the fields are often used to grow hay for the cows.

Birch trees love this loamy soil and they make lovely views.

Along the way there was a house that was fairy-like.  Or maybe Hobbit-like. Isn't that gate just perfect?

We got about 2/3 through our planned walk and hit a virtual wall. The book said Go Right and the sign said Private-No Entrance.  In front, barbed wire. Well, our little guide book is from 1998.  Maybe things are different these days.

Since we didn't have food, we took a sip of our tea and took the same way back, with a slight detour along another peat way.

We could glimpse into the former fields where the peat was harvested, but it's now overrun with young birch and wild blueberry bushes.

 It's a wild place, and Werner seems to remember a poem for all sorts of situations.

 Really - he quotes poems.  This one is 

The Boy on the Moor

How dreadful it is to go over the moor
When it is teeming with will o' the wisps
And mists are whirling like phantoms
As brambles are hooking on bushes.
A pool springs up below each of his steps
When from the cleft it hisses and sings
How dreadful it is to go over the moor
When the reed beds are rustling in wind!

I am not kidding, he recited the main part of it.  On the moor.  To me. Of course, he did it in German, but really, I am impressed and moved.

And we have a souvenir. A birch bark. It will find a place on our deck.Probably as a cover for a  pot.

Back to the car and back home.  The sun was still out, so we sat on our deck and ate our picnic!!!  It was still tasty.

What a day.