Time travel into the woods, or how the ancients wanted to gift us

Do you hear that too?

It sounds from afar, yet close to the ear.

And resonates in the heart.

Mrs. Kati says and listens with rapture.

The sound of old stories. The rhythm of the drum, the song of the wise elders.

Now, seriously. We are on our way into the woods.

Only the rough buzz of a saw reverberates from the slope.

But the deeper we enter the woods, the more enchantingly our senses are captivated. For me, it smells the most intense. Like hare, indeed.

Mrs. Kati thinks it smells more like a hell of a lot of knowledge. Aha.

What does that mean?....

First of all: Follow the light. Light is clarity. Focus and vision.

Although the Celts did not leave us a true Upper Franconian Stonehenge, they did leave behind an impressive grove.

However, its evening light show is still considered a well-kept insider tip. At least for lovers of evening silence and contemplation.

My friend, Baumi, tells me about a legendary wise old matriarch figure.

Guardian of the earth’s light, with a warm cloak and an open heart for all those who simply need a hug. Or advice.

Anyone who wants to meet her must first confront their own shadow.

Mine is small, so I’ll get through quickly.

Behind us, threatening figures are gathering.

Wild wood, once loaded onto our backs simply by strangers. An emotional final resting place for those who probably didn’t want to take responsibility themselves. Back then, there was no choice.

Mrs. Kati thinks the best protection for all children from such burdens is competent, reflective adults who clarify themselves first before simply offloading their baggage onto innocent backs.

And suddenly, a truly mystical moment of reverence.

'So, you are ready for my gift to you?'

Well, the woman doesn't look so great, I think. But her roots. Simply delicious.

Of course, I asked beforehand.

Yes, I had reflective adults. Despite emigration and foster family.

I am a rescue dog with a past. But I know politeness.

Unfortunately, things don’t always look rosy in our region.

We gratefully accept the gift right away. It is the wisdom of guarding and preserving grounded light.

The path becomes clearer and leads us to the long-haired druid lord of the beech head.

I get a bit of a knotty feeling. Doesn’t he have a gnarly guardian right at the front door? He’s not to be trifled with.

My instincts never lie. Actually.

I wait safely behind Mrs. Kati. One has to be able to get help.

Bad excuse, yes, I’m a coward sometimes too.

The wind sways his long hair and sings us a message. Directly translated from the bouncer, nice.

We bow and listen.

Many would pass by. Just like that. Thoughtlessly. With e-bikes, they rush down the hill. Or they chatter wildly like gaggling ducks instead of listening properly.

He means. How true.

But to those who look present and attentive, the world lies at their feet. Thus, for male colleagues explicitly, the world of women.

Nothing is more essential than a wakeful man who sees, feels, and leads.

Interesting, but not my world. Mrs. Kati, on the other hand, hangs on his lips with excitement.

'I wish for true men for the earth of the future. Anyone who awakens from the twilight sleep of the surface is a blessing for all that is feminine, all that blossoms. And you, you help already by feeling.'

Yeah, no way.

So that is really too much for me as a dog. I’d rather leave the man-woman thing to you humans.

So take a moment of introspection, listen to the wise elders. To the wood. Feel it. Smell it. And thank it for all the great services in the face of eternity.

And don’t forget to marvel!

I’ll tell you. Every wood is different and unique. And yet carved from the same block.

Regarding the topic of carving, I can only think of one thing:

Dogs are allowed to thank sticks.

I'm treating myself to one now.

After all that profound knowledge, I truly deserve a hearty treat.

Until the next adventure,

Your Gretl!