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AUTUMN WALK

I stop the engine of the car on a parking lot near the side of a soccer field. A game between two teenaged groups of players is taking place. Spectators cheer on the boys. On this bright young Autumn day I decide to go for a walk in a nature reserve. I take a small road that runs into a quiet valley. At its entrance I walk along green meadows and a meandering creek that extends to a spruce forest. Soon I leave the village behind. My red woolen scarf flutters in the fresh morning wind. Because I feel cold I wrap myself. The scream and laughter of the soccer players vaguely still can be heard in the distance. As I walk on, streams of clouds sedately roll past on a pale blue sky illuminated by a milky-white sun. A farmer on a tractor with a trailor passes by. Nearby I can hear the content neighing of a horse. After a little while I turn off the tarred road onto a small country lane and follow the path down to a litte pond lined with reeds.

The early morning mist still covers the water. Rising breeze is curling rings on its surface. A couple of ducks diligently cares for its colourful feathers with its beaks. Dew trops sparkle on the waving sedge. An oak leaf falls down to earth like a spinning top. Shells of acorns are crunching under my feet. As a souvenir I collect some of the tree fruits and marvel at their smooth and brown shining shells. The spicy smell of cow dung while the farmer spreads out his load on the bare willos fills the crispy clear air.

As I slowly stroll on deeper into the valley my senses open up like the pastelcoloured sky. Grey heavy clouds greet from above. I see my boots walking through the autumn leaves and listen to the hoarse rustle under my feet. Blades of grass sway in the wind lightly accompanied by the whistle that blows through stems and treetops. My eyes follow the bold squad flight of a flock of blackbirds.

I take a deep breath and smile. Out of the blue my heart leaps for joy. Unexpectetly I am enamored of the autumnal scenery in its serene beauty of withering dreams. Pure love openheartedly gazes at me from any leave and any berry. An infinite cosmos full of tiny and incomprehensible great wonders frankly presents itself equal to a peacock that opens up its gloriously colourful plumage.

My breathing and my consciousness seamlessly mingle with the appearances around me. I am seized with a pleasant shiver that runs over my whole body. Astonished by the stunning sensation I glance at the scenery that generously wants to reveal itself to me. Green mistletoes in the crown of a mighty willow tree throw back the vast blueness of the sky. Apple trees with spreading branches shyly stand in row like enchanted Fairie. Brightred apples leftover from summer shine from their boughs even more seductively than any bauble.Black purple Rowan berries curiously peep out of the hedges. Birch line the path with silvery flowing tree trunks and greengolden garlands of tenderly trembling leaves. The excited flutter of crows that settle in glider flying on a harvested field animates the miracolous picture. The birds raucous cries reveal the deep silence on whose surface the scenario plays. My thoughts languish to find words to capture a glimpse of this apparently floating world around me. Aware of the immediate impulse in wanting to name something I renounce but plunge into a sea of gentle gracefulness.

Within this magical spectacle my conscious breathing mingles with the overwhelming abundance of dreamlike natural flow. It feels like I step through a doorless gate and enter an adorable universe behind a transparent veil by effortlessly cutting through my familiar perception. I exceed an imperceptible boundary into a vast openness that seems ceaselessly to bring forth an interplay of colours, sounds, smells and vibrations. I am amazed and moistened with the spell of a mystery that incessantly seems to show itself in new representation equal to the magnificent colour­change of a chamaleon.

As I move on a solitary bench by the wayside offers a resting place to me. Like passionate lovers two tree trunks stand closely together and entwine themselves. Childlike I listen to the croaky cry of a jay. Countless rays of the autumn sun warm my face. Firs and scot pines rock and play with the growing breeze. The majestic trees rise like silent witnesses of a speaking presence that tells about a supreme conciousness which is constantly born in a perfect pattern of a three-dimensional image.

A screaming crow rips the silence. Placidely I walk on the path. My whole body is soaked with the friendliness and love of all that presently seems to exist. I feel completely absorbed by an entrancing world just as it directly shows itself. Moved by the humble bow of all plants, creatures and elements before me I surrender myself to such immeasurable grace. I take a deep breath so as not to faint. On a rotten tree stump at the edge of a small grove I sit down again and enjoy the quiet repose.

Forest ants have inhabitet the wood and go busily about their work. A colony of mushrooms some with gnawed hats gives shelter to a few little worms and bustling beetles. I pick up a gras-halm, put it between my clammy fingers and tear a little whole in it. I press the grass on my lips and whistle on it like a feral child vying with the screeching jay. In the curve of a distant woodland path I see the farmer on his tractor disappear leaving no trace behind him.

I center deeply in my breathing as if to gently cradle the world in my arms. For a split of a moment it seems that my consciousness is ceasing the subtle motion in all elements. I dwell in contemplation of the overwhelming bliss for a while. I AM.

Calmly and with a sense of complete saturation I get up from the retreat place a little later. On my way back I pluck an apple and bite into the sweet juicy fruit. As if to prove to realize once more my fingers I play with the acorns and hazelnuts in my pocket. Richly rewarded and in rhythm with my jumping heart I hop and prance on the road that leads back to the village. I come back to the empty soccer field and cross the crunching stones of the parking area. The game is over. Spectators, players and cars are all gone. I start the engine.

Photos by Condesign. Germany. Photo of  single leaf by Anja Osenberg. Germany.



 

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