Slowly sliding into the whirl

“It’s snowy white outside, here’s your tea,” I heard Her Voice at the window.

“Is it thick or thin?”, I reacted quickly in order to demonstrate that I could have been up already...Silence..Was that because of my omission to thank Her for the Tea? Or, simply because I should get out and see myself?

Anyhow, after the “Jee&Awe, finally its Winter", I did start the morning-excercise under the Oaktree. And after that, on my heavy snowproof shoes, I took an unusual steep track up into the white hillforest. So instead of running or walking down, I found myself climbing up. That’s funny, I thought, it’s feeling really marvelous..why doing this alone instead of together?

Then, all along the uphill road my morning-tour turned down back into the forestvalley, where you can find the source of the Little Brook, I explored the days before. But for today no source to be found yet- Although the darkness had vanished.

So, now alongside the Litle Brook I descended the footpath down to the riverside. Again at the small stony bridge I took a time-out to listen deeply into the laughter of the small cascade. It was not only a bit brighter now, perhaps we could see the sun later on in the day.

And we did! We saw something like a pale moon, vaguely glimpsing through the clouds. And we saw that thing two times!
In the afternoon We walked Together alongside the Diemel-river. The Diemel is a tributary and joins the Weser just in the corner where our beautiful Town was build in 1799. It was a real discovery to wander through the snow-wet meadows and over the muddy tracks. But apart from all the picturesque and potential Blipvistas, there it was: the unexpected, surprising near-fall in the silver-gliding Diemel-stream: the whirling waves rushing into a small cataract...