Back at the Cormorant Stone

As the churhbells rang seven the sun stood already largely over the Brandenberg. I started to open the window, dressed up for tea and went to the kitchen. There I remembered that it would be my turn to make the feeding round for the birds. Until now I had left that to Willemien’s hands. But as I have told her already, I found out it to be a real joy. To walk around determinate spots in your garden from high to low to sprinkle out small portions of wheat flakes, seeds and small nuts on stones, on bird tables. You hear the exitement of the tits flying in. The blackjack alarms the family for breakfast. And meanwhile the small scraplorry drives slowly up the hill road, piping his Mozart tune. This day is already perfect. Thanks W. for learning me again such a simple lesson.


After yoghurt, cracker&espresso I put on my old mountain shoes and climbed uphill through the backyard to the forestroad. And there  my second  morning round began. Still cold in the morningsun I met all kinds of animals and humans. The most amazing was the woodpecker high up drilling his good morning rhythm into the bark. The most charming were the doggies Diesel and Balou. Their Mastress had a lot to tell before coffetime at her grand-daughter’s home. Such a pleasant and relaxed Saturday morning alongside the Friedensthal-brook.


And finally as I came out in the open, there she was streaming and whirling. I stumbled over the withered weeds and reed towards the waterfront. Finally, The Cormorants Stone had left its underwater world and become visible again. Though still out of reach but no longer flooded. It must have been a year ago that I sat on it. Musing on the Cormorants tale I still have to write.
I must come back here soon before the littoral wilderness  becomes inpenetrable. Can you help me remember that. I saw the new green already pushing up. Sprouting is everywhere.