My last post still bears the signature of the summer, but he is signing out. Running with headlamp is required again, another layer of clothing should not be missing - at least early in the morning or evening. But the day the sun has power, as last weekend. And there on the doorstep images that soon only be possible in the mountains: Pictures of fog. I drive up through the Villigen Rotberg, the milky clouds warp in warm, dry foehn winds, and even a few crickets chirping in the Grass:
Only a short trip it is to "pass". Rechtsumkehrt, wipe the sweat from his eyes, and gazing down. "It is strange to walk in the fog" would now say Hermann Hesse (yet), but which Eichendorff of the soul, relax the wings ...
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