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Of moor cows and juniper slopes

Publicado: 06.07.2020

I don't know if you already knew this - but nature is a true remedy for the hurried.

Ms. Kati and I agree on that, one should pay attention to the right dose of time and speed when out in nature.

Today was another healing day - whenever we get into the car, it can only mean one thing: horse farm or discovering a new dream trail.

I like both, but when Ms. Kati puts on her hiking boots, I know that today we will explore new territory and have a lot of fun and a lot to admire.

The path leads us into a valley where once little goats grazed - otherwise it wouldn't be called Kleinziegenfelder Tal. No sign of goats to be seen, but there are beautiful mountain slopes with juniper bushes and lush grass, magical forests and angular rocks.

Today we are not alone, we have human companions, also great, so I can sniff more for myself.

We start at the green bench which is actually brown, and take a narrow magical path along the water. By the way, a piece above springs the Weißmainquelle and the water meanders timidly through the forest. It is wonderfully clear, fresh and if you look closely, there is a fascinating underwater world.

While the people chat happily and many do so without taking a pause in between, they sometimes don't even notice what they are missing - like when passing by.

They surely often overlook the moor cow that we pass by, and which gently rests in the shallow moor water.

Here the beaver has dammed up the water and when you look into the marshy landscape, you feel the magical effect of the moor cow - a slight shudder on fur and skin. How she dwells gently and nobly in the water.

'From time to time, they should really install a stumbling trap so that people actually stop and admire me,' the moor cow surely thinks. At least sometimes a little creature stops by with a wonder in its sparkling eyes and says 'Mom, look' , but the mom often doesn't look so closely.

What a pity, such a magical moment, and the many great stories that could be told about it.

For example, when the moor cow watches over all the forest inhabitants at night and sometimes eerie sounds can be heard from the moor.

In any case, we followed this path very attentively and now it winds up a gentle mountain through a rock gorge.

It smells fantastic there. Hare, mouse, deer tracks, along with the scents of plants - a bit musty though at the entrance of the cave we pass by. I see how Ms. Kati admires a plant. It is white and sparkles in strong contrast to the green of the trees and the rocks. When the sun briefly shines its rays into the gorge, an unforgettable moment arises with countless sparkling white plant heads.

But even the greatest forest has an end at some point and we are now walking on a long stretched meadow and field path that leads us to a mighty oak tree with a bench.

Resting is always nice, especially because you can sniff a lot and read countless messages from other resting beings. Ms. Kati and the other bipeds speculate about the Germanic hiking friends on whose donated bench they are sitting.

We continue on a long straight line between cornfields - a bit monotonous - but Ms. Kati says that monotony is also important so that the soul has time to digest all the impressions in peace.

And so we finally arrive at Hühnerberg. I'm already looking forward to lots of feathered creatures, but instead we are rewarded with a dreamlike view.

In the midst of the juniper slopes and the fragrant thyme with mouse holes and salamanders on winding paths along the rocks.

Where could a goat with the Germanic people have had it better than on this mountain.

Step by step attentively downhill, at least for the bipeds, the path leads us back to the Weismain.

I take another refreshing bath, a good gulp, and a stick as a souvenir to take home.

Not to forget my great experience at the Schrepfersmühle, a little stopover, because Ms. Kati and the bipeds were in urgent need of coffee.

So I had the opportunity to observe two resident house cats up close, overcome my fear of roaring lion statues, and discover a hidden treasure that Ms. Kati even allowed me to take with me - a bone.

My conclusion: go for it on this dream trail, highly recommended with a length of about 5 km, if you want to learn the art of looking, walking slowly, and marveling.

In exchange for a few points from the time and speed account.

By the way, it should not be a secret - on this day my blog was born during a stopover high up in the village - but I happily slept through it under the table.

See you soon on the next adventure,

Your Gretl

Kutichiy

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