Lonely fisher at the Riverside

As we awoke rather late this morning: no sundawn, no moonfading. Mist, and over the Diemel Heights a hint of golden glimmer over the snow. Perhaps later on…? Full of hope , I dressed warmly to challenge the strong icy Easternwind. The Gardian Oak strengthened me during excercise: it had kept his upright posture during eternal nights, cold or otherwise. Greeting with a rustling crown.

On the road for a modest round, this time I took the opposite direction. But then surprisingly my way turned to the left..? What? Yes, lets walk down to the Little Brook and see if there is more to hear and see on The Treasury-Tale. Not very likely, because of the absence of light and real sunrise, but..I explored a different footpath down to the stony bridge. I looked and listened: nothing special to see, only fresh gigling splashings of the falling stream, kind of murmuring song catched my ear.

So following my way further down over the cracking footpath, coming from under the small tunnel into the open riverside, I held my breathing: Ah! & There! A cormorant on the stone at the Weser-riverside. And simultaneously I saw one of the names on the crooked, rusty uphill-directionplate: “Friedensthal”. Meaning that the Little Brook of the “Peace Valley” may be called: “Friedensthaler Bach”. I didn’t make that up. Reality surpasses imagination.

The picture of this big black&blue fishing-bird - so familiar to us at sea and in the trees at the dunelakes - is not at all Blipable (lack of accurate exposure, sharpness, etc.) but I conquered it during a long stalking through the cracking snow. With frozen fingers in the fierce icy winds...Beginners lamentation, I know, doesn’t serve at all. But I “will” do better next Wintertime on that icy Riverside.