We visited my Aunt that day and Pavlov and me took a walk in the rain to the castle of Wertheim. Quite some good views from above – if only the weather would have been a little kinder.
Originally I wanted to take a big walk with my Cousin Franzi but she and her family were ill and so I took her dog Kia with me to the hills. Pavlov and Kia know each other but they are not very interested in each other. Kia is an elder lady and sometimes I looked around and asked myself where she is, only to notice, that she is right next to me. Which would very rarely happen with Pavlov who is always some 50-100 meters away, sniffing, hunting and looking for sticks.
There was still a little bit of snow when I arrived at my Moms and we had a very cold walk that day. I saw the sheep already the night before and the shepherd didn’t like Pavlov a lot. But cows, horses, sheep, goats – Pavlov would never approach the sheep because since he was “attacked” by an electric fence once, he is afraid of every gras eating animal. Pobrecito!
We have been there as teenagers at night to have mystic parties and campfires. For a very long time the ruin of the Wildenburg was and still is a magic place in the middle of a typical Odenwald forest. It was built in the 12th century and destroyed by Götz von Berlichingen (well known from Goethes stage play) in the 16th century. Since, it attracts hikers and today even some corny dressedup instagramers find their way up to the castle ruin.
Beautifully situated in the Taubertal is the Monastery of Bronnbach a former Cistercian Abbey founded in the 12th century. The surroundings are great for hiking, the Nibelungensteig and one of the German Saint James Ways lead right past the forest just next to the Monastery. It’s a wonderful complex of buildings, above all if it’s the first days of spring.
Sunny, cloudy, misty, rain and shine – this hike was very divers and beautiful.
Everyone complains about the rain. I’d say there is beauty and color in every kind of weather. Or as my grandma said: There is no bad weather, just bad clothes.
We visited the small village of Berolzheim and took a walk to “Linni” (Lindich) a piece of forest and fields which once was partly owned by my Grandpa. My memories aren’t very vivid, I just remember a playground he made out of trees.
Wow! What a change of atmosphere when you wake up and everything is cold, white and shiny.
Today, eight years ago, my Dad died. Since some years, my Mum and I take the day off and do something nice and meaningful together. We decided, to visit the village where my Mum grew up and where I spend a lot of weekends and holidays of my childhood.
My Great Great Grandpa once build a fabulous house there in the Badgasse in Berolzheim, Baden Württemberg. Nothing huge and pompous, but three floors made of red sandstone, hard work, laughter and love. It stood there for two World Wars and was always full of children and adults. My Grandpa died in 1986 and since then my Grandma was the last person living there. In 2008 – she was already 90 years old – she still heated her rooms with a wooden stove in the kitchen. But the house risked to collapse and so my Grandma moved to an assisted living home. All the daughters already lived somewhere else and so the house was sold to a neighbor who demolished the dilapidated building and put up a garage instead.
My Grandma died in 2014 at 95.
Those are some pictures from the 50s to the 80s showing members of the family on the steps in front of the house.
I haven’t been to Berolzheim since more than 12 years because I didn’t feel I could bear the sight of the non existing house – the place of some of my dearest childhood memories – being replaced by a garage. But today I felt, I go seeing it. I frequently feel, that my attachment to “things” is quite tight compared to others and when I talk to my Mom, I know, that she feels just the same. It is – like if the things are gone – the memories are gone, too. I don’t want to attach myself to things. I wanted to feel, that those memories won’t be lost, just because the house has gone. And they aren’t.
Just yesterday I read the following: “Jeder Mensch sucht nach Halt. Dabei liegt der einzige Halt im Loslassen.” (Hape Kerkeling). I would translate it like that:
And in those times of change, there are things that will go and others that will come. And some old things have to go to make space for new things. And all of that is normal and good and maybe will even become much better than before. Who knows? Maybe it was a possibility for a good change in the life of someone?
I’m sad to see it gone. But is is still engraved in the corner of happy memories in my heart.
hikeminded 