Some of the things I did in June...

 So, long time, no post, I know. It´s just that I am a bit undermotivated to date for blogging, what with no real camera, no ressources whatsoever and working hard and most of the time for next to nothing. It just seems I always struggle the best I can (and get a lot of positive input for my work), but the money seems to avoid me as if I had the plague. I am to date thinking about starting a business with knifemaking and blacksmithing tutorials for children. But the market is definitely down to next to nothing for knives. I could sell a handmade knife with a spring steel blade that cuts mild iron and chops antler, complete with stag handle and sheath for 35 €. We´re talking handforged here, and that´s not a price at all. When I sell knives at all, I just make blades to be finished with a Paracord wrapping and no sheath. My day job´s stuck at a dead end of course, no career in sight. My mother wanted to sell my property flat while I looked away just once to an estate speculant at a ridiculous price. So, not exactly an easy life at the moment, but now everything´s under control (as far one could say that for any life) again, and I can concentrate on the nice experiences again. And at the beginning of June I stayed at my love´s for holiday, and while there  were a lot of beautiful days spent together, here´s just a short account of the highlights. Hikes into the hills, getting up late, having fun, meeting, friends, having great food and some greater music, great weather, and a beautiful city. Oh, and "ain´t she sweet?"...

 ... The hills above Marburg...

 One day Daniela, a friend of ours, the magic troll and myself drove out towards the Goldborn spring. We went there for meditation and spiritual practice. A local legend says that he who sits by the spring for three fullmoon nights in a row without speaking, will find a golden treasure. We did not stay for three months;-), but we spoke little. It was a very peaceful atmosphere with the creeks singing and golden light seeping through the leaves. We first went on our respective ways, and it was great to be with people, regardless of our way of acquaintance, with whom this is possible.

The song of the creek and the trees merged into each other, and there were voices from the deep sounding up into the world of man and beast and tree. It is difficult to describe, but if you are still enough, you might be able to relate to the experience. If you don´t, there´s no way I can make this plausible to you.

When I returned from my solitary journey, I found the magic troll sitting with her feet in the water and chanting a gentle song, so low I could not hear much. She has a lovely voice, sure, but most impressively was the voices that rose from the creek and that blended into her singing. It was certainly one of the most beautiful things I have heard in my whole life.

Then Daniela returned and took to playing the flute sitting on a rock in the creek, and that was another very beautiful and touching thing. In the meantime, the magic troll and myself prepared some food and we said our thanks and had a feast on handmade cheese and bread and cake and water melon and a cuppa tea.   

 Suddenly all was over and we drove home with a heart full of peace and joy. On Friday then Erich came, the magic troll´s father, and a great guy to have around. Especially when some beer is involved. And, no, I am NOT ashamed ;-)

 We prepared for combat with a black beer helmet, for it was Münzenberg reenactment fair ahead, and we had still to train for full contact martial arts. We chose an enemy of mankind to be fought. Alcohol. I am glad to say that the enemy was utterly defeated!

 The magic troll in assault mode...*ggg*

 Off to Münzenberg.

 I could rant on endlessly how great it was, how friendly the people. It was great to meet with Jonny again, and talk away the hours with Lotte, his wife, to trade weird jokes with Heika and André, and Steffen and Dipali, and Meggy and Peter and all those other great people on the fair. Erich bought himself half a ton of bronze axes;-), and some pretty Birka jewellry for the girls. I also had the privilege to meet with Danuta, his new companion girlfriend, another great person I was glad to meet. We enjoyed this quality time together.

 Oh, and the fights? Look here to see some real fighting, no sword ballet:

Click

Clickclack

And a great vid of the Polish national team


We drove home to prepare for the next day*ggg*.

Kidding aside, when I got home I took out Íshakùthr, ye olde viking swordie and gave it some polishing up. Blimey, I have to forge some armour...;-) some real armour, that is.

After work bimble into the green, green woods...

 On Tuesday I had to decompress somewhat. I am currently having a very tight schedule, and it starts to wear me out a bit, but it´s all my fault really. And what to do? RIGHT! Get out of town and simply have some rest for my soul. It always works. The sun was not exactly shining, but glaring with a strange and milky light, and alongside a grain field I trod my path into the green twilight looming ahead.

 The grass was growing wildly, and on the banks of the nearly unintelligible path grew plantain, woundwort, chamomile, common yarrow, sorrel and many more. I could have filled my pack, but there is still so much left from last year that I do not need any at the moment. So I simply stopped and took in the lovely colours and the air of a flourishing nature, even if this year seems to be a bad one for the harvest.

 I have thought about telling you of the properties of those plants again, but I thought about it and came to aconclusion: So much we do is just because someone or something has properties and is good for this or that. I have done so in other posts, and you can refer to those, but I realized I simply wanted not to forget the beauty behind it all. The beauty of the plant itself, just growing there and being there, not for me, but just being.

 I am grateful that the woods are there, the flowers grow, and the deer chant in the twilight. I am grateful for the fox, and for the hare. Just because they are. Of course, I love to find something, and I like to have a tea, or find a bone for a knife handle, or even some antler. I would hunt for food, of course, and maybe some day I can afford a hunting license and a decent gun, or maybe, when all breaks down, use a sling, spear and bow and arrow. I practice their use after all.  But that´s not all. Everything being is not being there exclusively for our use. We can make use from it, but we have to learn, and especially western civilization has to, that there is a very delicate balance in it all. This can have a soothing effect; we are not the centre of the universe. We are beings like the deer, like fox and hare and bird, a part of it all, and maybe we could still fulfill our part. Of course, we are the most aggressive raptor on earth, but even we could still have a place.

 Deeper into the woods I went, and stillness came over me with every step I took, with the sound of the songs of birds, of creek and stream and the gentle rustling of the wind in the leaves.

 Beside the stream I sat on a rock and simply listened to the song of the water, the voice that constantly murmurs without a message I could understand, but tales it told nonetheless from and of the circles of life and death, of rebirth and growing. Of tales of fancy and imagination as well as of life and death, of fights and defeats and survival. Above me flew my friend, the bussard, and uttered his cries that are so full of yearning and hunger, not only the concrete hunger, but also a sensation of flight and gravity, of force and power, and freedom in the playing of the forces. The creek sang its song of the water, and the earth thrummed with a deep sonore hum that few can hear, but the song of the soil is there, if you live and listen intently. Then some day you might hear it and listen in awe... and there will be nothing gained or lost by it, but being.

When my bimble came towards an end, I found this gift not given from a friend that is not a friend.

And home I went, into the enmeshments and involvements that harass our everyday life, but with a deep breath thrumming in me.

Just being alive.