On Saturday before Easter Sunday it is traditional in our region that bonfires are lit on every hill. In pagan times this was a custom to fend off the forces and spirits of winter and to light the fires of spring. This year I was especially looking forward to it, because Anna, an ex-girlfriend of mine and now one of the very best, if not the best friend I have was in my hometown to visit her parents. She now lives in Berlin and makes a living "ne´er do well" as a designer. We decided we´d visit her father and go to the fires with him. His partner, Carla, has one of the greatest locations for a house garden I have seen over here so far. It´s quite a big piece of land behind an old worker´s house. Hartwig, Anna ´s father is an architect and going frankly insane with that house.
Does digging a cellar in while the house still stands by hand qualify;-)? In my book it certainly does... They are quite bushcrafty people, too, although the´d never admit it, living on herbs and edibles from the woods they planted in the garden. They have an area devoted entirely to wild plants, and they use them reularily. Carla taught me how to make dandelion honey in no time, and she is learning herblore by herself from ancient books, such as Hildegard von Bingen´s lore and Konrad von Megenberg´s herbarium. This is her kitchen herbs´spiral Hartwig set for her, with rosemary, thyme and many other herbs for the kitchen and for tea. I was quite amazed.
This is a piece of garden after Carolus Magnus, with three kinds of salad. Also there´s a garden for potatoes and carrots, quite the paradise. They both are very selfmade people, doing all this by themselves, and this I very much respect.
We had some very quality talk, and a drink of champagne, before making off to the site of the fire in the countryside. There were tents built up, and we had some curry sausage and french fries along with a beer or two or three...;-). The fire itself was built somewhat at a distance, for it had not rained for some weeks, and the authorities were taking care that no wildfires were set. After having our sausages and fries and beer and beer, and beer;-) we walked over to the fire. Met a strange crowd there, quite an interesting lot, the farmer himself whom the site belonged to, a guy from the Baltic Republic whom I talked for two hours with about bushlore, hunting and how it is in his home country. We heard some songs or at least some noise by the drunkards
around the place and kept silent;-) ourselves, looking into the flames, seeing things and talking about how great this was. Man, it was everything at once! Silent and noisy, cozy and loud, good friends and strangers, all peacefully united by looking into the flames. Life can be so great, and sometimes it is greatest when it´s simplest.
When the cinders burned down, we went back to Hartwig´s and Carla´s place, and had some real great food and some tea. Carla and Hartwig simply would not let us go without another meal.
After some very late night dinner, which was plainly delicious and consisted of two kinds of bread, cheese, butter, and cream with herbs from the garden, wild garlic and all;-), Anna and myself made for home.
We had some very deep talk, and I know she is a kind of sister to me, one person of those few closest to my heart. I am grateful she loves me that way, and I love her that way too.
It was a very healing experience for me, and I will dwell on that evening at least another year;-).
Those are the adventures of Mr. Fimbulmyrk, in bushcraft and blacksmithing, mountainbiking and hiking, reenactment, writing, singing, dancing, stargazing and having a piece of cake and a coffee. Pray have a seat and look around you, but be warned - the forest´s twilight is ferocious at times.
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