the grain growing plains, the pine tree woods, the bricks built villages over the sand and by the lakes left after the wall of ice.
the air is still cold and the sun already cozily warm for a ride down the Altmühl along the cycling path. A church made of bushes is still growing to completion in Pappenheim, the roofings still a bit thin, the tower naked yet.
an overcast cold spring day is possibly the best time to visit the bogs. Nature still asleep, people still asleep, all is still in the bogs.
not far from Munich near the old salt trading hub city of Rosenheim the Simssee with the Alps in the background stands modestly apart from the Chiemsee; its overrun neighbour lake.
one of those rare times when at the most exuberant time of spring, a mantel of snow covers the young green leaves in the forest for barely an hour and surround us with a brilliant light at the Hainich Nationalpark in Thuringia.
the surreal days of the passing of a season