leaving aside superlatives, Freyburg offers an out-of-the-crowd visit to a septentrional wine region with surprising views and very enjoyable wines. Free horses and flower gardens settled in disused old East-Germany-Era army training grounds. Following the river Unstrut to the south you find Naumburg (Saale), old light railways and a surprisingly large cathedral.
in mid november one hour before sunset taking a walk by the alter noerdliche Friedhof in Munich
a photo-shooting in the city
Sunday on a mid July afternoon at the lake, friends, a game of Kubb, laughter, competitiveness, teasing, focusing on the marks, joy, excitement. Winners and losers dining all together at sunset.
in a warm summer afternoon the sky darkens suddenly and a storm rolls very fast over the 1972 Munich Olympic Games Regatta course taking some casual rowers by surprise. The course lays some 15Km north of Munich and it is declared a historical site.
The watching towers stand empty on the sides of the course. People jog or cycle around on rounds of some 4Km. A group of four young men does not take too much notice of the storm and keep jogging under the rain. Others take cover under the overhangs by the stores on the north side.
Two hours later the sun shows up to say good night lighting the poplars alley on the way back to the city.
built between the 1920 and 1930, these rows of Gewofag social housing development in Neuhausen enjoy the protection of the city for its heritage value. Best enjoyed in the late afternoon, when the low sun beams brings the three-dimensionality of the details to the eye.
Not far from the habitation blocks of the Gewofag, the Kunstlerhof adds a new dimension to the neighbourhood. Old chained bicycles likely made to be here, waiting for the artist to come down her atelier with her smeared apron still on and take a ride to the café.
wagons once threaded this plain and filled the night with echos of metallic giggle, where now nature and new settlers walk around still puzzled how to classify what they see in their Saturday’s afternoon walk. Here and there, if you stop long enough to see through the signs, you can see the ghosts of those railroad tracks and ties under thickening vegetation. The sudden idle beds of track ballast stand questioning their purpose now like dry wounds in the meadows.
Hidden in the woods, old tracks, fallen lampposts, gates with nothing to gate, lost ponds. And an old adjoining settlement. Despite the looks, no vignetting is applied to the photographies.
The old bed wagons factory witness yet one other kind of resettlement: partly spooky, partly trashy, and certainly worth walking through.