Tag Archives: Bernese Oberlands

Snort…what?

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…Act 1 of 3…Snow?

The temperature lowered, the clouds lowered, the precipitation began…then the gray. Lower and lower came that crazy gray infinite, reducing my vision…that enveloping grayness, proving how limited is our human sense of sight. Grayed out–sense of sight, sense of balance, even sense of gravity…dissolving…bit by bit…

…then the snow. I have carried a dream, maybe just a memory for decades, more than fifty years–strangely vivid–I was told to count backwards from 10 and inhale slowly and deeply–it was a black mask over my nose and mouth and it was ether that I inhaled–I saw the gray background turn darker to almost black and gradually it became filled with white dots–soft white dots–like snowflakes not quite in focus–that is the dream and each time it returns, it has a comforting subtitle–this is how death will come, quietly like a snowfall beginning.

Oh, but this is just a late spring snowfall–it’s not death–it’s not the return of winter…but, oh, for the briefest of moments, it was strangely exciting to feel, but inevitably, not sustainable.

…too busy…I almost missed Spring…11…next…last

Plentiful Water

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Glacial and snow melt for forests, farms…

…and then the big time flowers begin their parade…

…voluptuous tease…since the new year, Viburnum bodnantense, despite its naked stems, had teased me with its winter flowers and their fragrance. Then finally with the correct combination of warmth and sun, its leaves began to show…and the closer I looked, the more the foliage detail entranced me…voluptuous?

What is the energy flowing through its leaf veins…oh, we have names for it…we call it blood in humans…we call it xylem and phloem in plants…but what is it really?

…too busy…I almost missed Spring…10…next…last

Spring: yes, it’s here now…

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…the cows are out…but, it is always the apple tree–I pause–I look–I inhale…apple blossoms, so fleeting, so delightful in color and fragrance.

Then fruit–off the tree, taken by stealth, enjoyed to the fullest–oh those joys of youth…of anytime. And Johnny Appleseed–share the fruit, share the beauty, share the health. Look at that tree–walk over to it…

Mountain water–glacial rivers, snow melt–collects in the lowlands…bathes the farm lands, the feet of the plants. Look at the rich mixed forests. And look, if you will, at the gap between the two mountains in the background–it is the portal through which has emerged and withdrawn many times the Lower Grindelwald Glacier–massive ice flow–paintings by Caspar Wolf, 1735-1783.

…too busy…I almost missed Spring…9…next…last

Civilized Primrose

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Meanwhile down in the valley–Primula vulgaris. Vulgaris? Common, it may be, but vulgar!?

Look at it!!!

This is every Easter Sunday of my childhood…and that is childlike happiness–tender spring green grass–soft pastel yellows, pinks, lavenders–and the air is just as full of childlike happiness–every breath brings carefree rejuvenation.

In that moment…I know not…I care not…I am…all is right. Spring.

…too busy…I almost missed Spring…8…next…last

Vera…the truth

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But I walked and I looked… …finally under those lower forests on a clearing, on a brookside, I found one, then again and again, I found others–all shouting at me with the cheerfulness of spring yellow in the wild. Primula vera–the truth?

…too busy…I almost missed Spring…7…next…last

PS My helpful friends from the Alpen Garten at Schynige Platte have told me that it is not vera, it is elatior. But this spring it was vera to me…and I was elated!

Mountains start to breathe

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Meanwhile, back below the treeline, in the mixed forests, the mountains vent their steam…stuff is happening somewhere.

Mysterious…clouds…fog…what? Subtle changes in temperature and humidity…why? Beautiful…local…non-specific…can you feel that in your lungs? In your heart?

The air of the coming spring begins to fill…fill with a richness that only can be sensed inside the lungs.

And as freshly intoxicating as it may be, a look up the slope shows upland pastures still dead yellow, dead brown…still not yet returned from winter’s cold sleep.

…too busy…I almost missed Spring…6…next…last

…winter tries to make a comeback…

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The snow shrinks back, it creeps uphill leaving behind a wet death–soaked yellow and brown grasses which had long before succumbed to winter’s cold grip.

But winter tries to make a comeback. The snow descends, lower and lower–winter tries vainly to re-establish its deathly grip…but I wonder, is it death, or is it purity? When about winter, how can the deaths of so many plants be so beautiful to behold when covered in white?

…too busy…almost missed Spring…2…last…next