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11/26/2020
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To valley
Let us imagine a summer day, a summer day when I wake up and realize I'm in a little boarding house. Alone! Nature! Vacation
After breakfast I will have a look at the surroundings. I step out expectantly. Only a small backpack is my companion with a water bottle, money, sunglasses and sun cream It's still early, but the sun is already in the sky. I'm sucking in the air. Which flowers smell so wonderfully bright, light and friendly here? Could they be freesias? I'll look around. The small pension has a large, well-designed garden. You can see that it has been professionally laid out and extends far to the left behind the house. In the foreground white lilies bloom in front of fresh boxwood. They smell and look wonderful.
I can take a closer look at the garden later, when I come back, I think, and turn to the small footpath that starts right at the house. No sooner have I walked a few metres than a sweet and slightly rotten smell comes into my nose. I can already see the cause: a compost heap for the garden cuttings and obviously also for the flower decoration of the pension that has to be disposed of. Here, the freesias I noticed at first with their slippery flower water stems wilt on all kinds of other withered and green hedge cuttings. I go on. The smell of the fading flower bouquets and their water decreases.
As I turn around the next bend, a beautiful view opens up over wide meadows, to which the path winds down harmoniously. I take it with a smile. I notice that I now pass the back of the big garden and again the smell of flowers rises in my nose, of other flowers. But which one? Actually it smells like chrysanthemums. But isn't it too early in the year for that? No, obviously not. A huge plantation of sun-yellow, mustard-yellow, lilac and magenta chrysanthemums shines under the blue sky. Impressive!
Now the path moves away from the garden and meanders through meadows down into the valley. The scent of chrysanthemums accompanies me for a long time, but I also notice that it is getting wetter and wetter down here. I look at the clock: how quickly time passes! I've been on the road for almost an hour now.
All around me it is getting swampier and swampier. On the right and on the left I see the typical brown pom-poms of the bulrushes and in other places even yellow marsh lilies are blooming. Again a smell of transience rises into my nose, but this time it is different: It is the typical smell of a swampy lake, not earthy and musty or really rotten, but of water plants in mainly standing fresh water The sun is now high. I'm glad. In the evening there will be mosquitoes here for sure I take out the sun cream and put it on my bare arms and shoulders. And then I put another sunscreen on my face. I drink some water and settle down by the lake. It's deserted. From far away I hear the soft and gentle splashing of a tributary or stream. Now and then something splashes into the water. Are those frogs? I can't see anything. It rustles. Small creatures are going their way again after I am so still as if I am no longer there and a gentle breeze is touching my skin. I close my eyes and follow my thoughts.
Now I've been gone for several hours. Not too long now, and I'm going to get hungry. So I decide to turn back. Now it's a slight uphill climb. But spontaneously I take another way than the way there. It doesn't lead me past the garden again, but makes a big curve to get to the other side of the pension again. For a very long time I still have the smell of the fresh water and the flora down by the pond in my nose with a touch of my sun cream.
After breakfast I will have a look at the surroundings. I step out expectantly. Only a small backpack is my companion with a water bottle, money, sunglasses and sun cream It's still early, but the sun is already in the sky. I'm sucking in the air. Which flowers smell so wonderfully bright, light and friendly here? Could they be freesias? I'll look around. The small pension has a large, well-designed garden. You can see that it has been professionally laid out and extends far to the left behind the house. In the foreground white lilies bloom in front of fresh boxwood. They smell and look wonderful.
I can take a closer look at the garden later, when I come back, I think, and turn to the small footpath that starts right at the house. No sooner have I walked a few metres than a sweet and slightly rotten smell comes into my nose. I can already see the cause: a compost heap for the garden cuttings and obviously also for the flower decoration of the pension that has to be disposed of. Here, the freesias I noticed at first with their slippery flower water stems wilt on all kinds of other withered and green hedge cuttings. I go on. The smell of the fading flower bouquets and their water decreases.
As I turn around the next bend, a beautiful view opens up over wide meadows, to which the path winds down harmoniously. I take it with a smile. I notice that I now pass the back of the big garden and again the smell of flowers rises in my nose, of other flowers. But which one? Actually it smells like chrysanthemums. But isn't it too early in the year for that? No, obviously not. A huge plantation of sun-yellow, mustard-yellow, lilac and magenta chrysanthemums shines under the blue sky. Impressive!
Now the path moves away from the garden and meanders through meadows down into the valley. The scent of chrysanthemums accompanies me for a long time, but I also notice that it is getting wetter and wetter down here. I look at the clock: how quickly time passes! I've been on the road for almost an hour now.
All around me it is getting swampier and swampier. On the right and on the left I see the typical brown pom-poms of the bulrushes and in other places even yellow marsh lilies are blooming. Again a smell of transience rises into my nose, but this time it is different: It is the typical smell of a swampy lake, not earthy and musty or really rotten, but of water plants in mainly standing fresh water The sun is now high. I'm glad. In the evening there will be mosquitoes here for sure I take out the sun cream and put it on my bare arms and shoulders. And then I put another sunscreen on my face. I drink some water and settle down by the lake. It's deserted. From far away I hear the soft and gentle splashing of a tributary or stream. Now and then something splashes into the water. Are those frogs? I can't see anything. It rustles. Small creatures are going their way again after I am so still as if I am no longer there and a gentle breeze is touching my skin. I close my eyes and follow my thoughts.
Now I've been gone for several hours. Not too long now, and I'm going to get hungry. So I decide to turn back. Now it's a slight uphill climb. But spontaneously I take another way than the way there. It doesn't lead me past the garden again, but makes a big curve to get to the other side of the pension again. For a very long time I still have the smell of the fresh water and the flora down by the pond in my nose with a touch of my sun cream.
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Hermesh
