Sunday, 10 December 2017

For The Love Of Reading.

...even more fun during winter.

" Anyone who says they have only one life to live must not know how to read a book. "
Author unknown
" There is no friend as loyal as a book. "
Ernest Hemingway
" There are many little ways to enlarge your child's world. Love of books is the best of all. "
Jacqueline Kennedy Onnasis
" A book is a dream you hold in your hand. "
Neil Gaiman
" There are perhaps no days of our childhood we lived so fully as those we spent with a favourite book. "
Marcel Proust
" If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again, there is no use reading it at all. "
Oscar Wilde
" Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore? "
Henry Ward Beecher
" You know you've read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend. "
Paul Sweeney
" For one who reads, there is no limit to the number of lives that may be lived, for fiction, for biography, and history offer an inexhaustible number of lives in many parts of the world, in all periods of time. "
Louis L'Armour

Biggi

Saturday, 9 December 2017

A Bit More Of Yesterday's Cold.

Just too nice not to share with you.

The trusty and sturdy Haflinger don't mind this kind of weather. They gave me the oddest of looks wondering why on earth I would leave my warm stable.
The brilliance of winter alongside a path. A sparkling contest as I meandered past.
A heard of deer or perhaps the only deer in town kept trying to evade me. They are only about fifty meters from the edge of the main road and that's why I stick to a lower speed whilst driving this bit of it. Once a deer almost ran into us, almost.
A normal barn, an old barn, but to me the most authentic and beautiful reminder of living the rural bliss. Just love it.
Almost a cinema noir... Three trees on a field.
A slice of winter, a slice of peacefulness and a reminder that as long as we've got enough to eat, all is well.

Biggi

Friday, 8 December 2017

Nature's Feather Dusters.

The icy tundras around Eisenberg.

The frosted fate crystallized by an early morning freeze about to be revoked by the warmth of a budding sun.
Their velvety texture reminds me of old fashioned ostrich feather dusters.
Halfway in my walk I had the outskirts of Deutsch Schützen in my sights. I adore these old fashioned barns.
As soon as the sun had wrangled its prominence fields regressed back to a healthy green and the frozen tendrils settled into being swayed dry by a gentle breeze.
Oh yes, it was bitterly cold although a dry and oddly refreshing cold...
My constant companions it seems...

Biggi

Thursday, 7 December 2017

Under Pressure.

Just in the nick of time.

There are certain things that are a mystery to me and one of them tends to be the mechanics of our pellet oven system. The few easy clues that even a novice like me could decipher were instantly dramatized into my own little tragedy and caused me a sleepless night. Dripping radiators aren't the way to go. There is colder than cold weather predicted for this weekend and I already imagined the three of us shivering through it.

I phoned our plumber yesterday and told him the whole spiel of woes but he told me that he wouldn't be able to help me in the near future as he had stopped work and when I suggested another local plumber, he agreed.

Plumbers do more than fix broken toilets and showers...they are the magicians who keep our heaters alive and well. This time of the year they are inundated with last minute requests and when I contacted him I expected to be put on a waiting list. Rightly so. Oh, I was so thrilled when he popped in this afternoon.

He is a true professional and had our leaky radiators fixed in a jiffy. When I hesitantly mentioned that we might need a new one because it was leaking, he shook his head and laughed...all it needed was a new valve and he replaced it there and then. A shot of water into the heating pipes and all was well. For him it was a storm in a tea cup and for us it was almost the end of a warm winter...

Oh, I almost forgot. He was most impressed that I had turned off the tap for the washing machine. One learns from mistakes and years ago the pipe leading into the back of our washing machine burst in our flat on the eighth floor. As luck would have it we couldn't find the main water switch and seeing almost a foot of water on the floor and mum nearly pinned against the wall by the deluge of high pressure water, was and is motivation enough to turn the tap off each and every time after a load of laundry.

Biggi

Wednesday, 6 December 2017

Walking On Thin Ice.

The deceptive beauty of a sparkling road.

Today being Wednesday it was a nice start to the day with my walking group. I am rather proud of them as in the almost two years of walking with me they've changed from sugary to tough. A mere spot of rain means nothing to them apart from bringing a raincoat. Never used to be...a drop of rain down yonder had me walk alone.

Funny how one acclimatizes with ease. A casual glance out the front window is as good as the weather report. Today I realized the moment I saw a road covered in sparkling diamonds that caution could not be thrown to the wind. Icy, slippery as hell ( surely it should be warm down under? ) and not for the faint of heart.

When no one texted me to cancel, I set off five minutes early due to a slower gait. God's truth, if I hadn't walked with one foot on the grass I could easily have been six foot under! It was yukki indeed but to my surprise my walkers were already waiting and eager to glide off.

Despite or rather because of the clear blue sky pitted with sunshine, the icy pitfalls accompanied us all over the village. The air was crisp, at times biting but so refreshing after being cooped up inside a warm house. It sounds so silly but after awhile the warmth radiating from the radiators becomes rather cloying and restrictive. Yet, none of us dare open the window for more then the required five minutes in case the warmth escapes. Dilly indeed.

As much as we tend to grumble at having eat, sleep and live in layers of clothing, the reward of feeling the crisp wintry breeze caressing our faces makes more than up for it. Nothing nicer than to come back home after a brisk walk and feel the skin tingling back to life while sipping a nice cup of tea.

Biggi

Tuesday, 5 December 2017

A Bunch Of Roses In Our Attic.

Timeless beauty.

The yellow roses are enchantingly painted or printed onto our new china. Actually we inherited this lovely dinner service with our house. The attic held many a surprise from a round of baskets to a stunning set of china.
Bob had an inspiration to clean the barn and when I got back from work, these were on the kitchen table alas full of dust and spiderwebs. Our barn is an original still filled with dust and such things...
As I washed and dried each plate, soup terrine or coffee pot it made me rather sentimental and I even considered using these daily. What a complement they would be for any meal.
Not for packet soups! I can imagine Leberknödel floating in a homemade beef soup.
Bob and I have never really got around to selling our attic find and have also never used it. One thing is for sure, if we decide to use our dinner service it will be daily, not only for special occasions...By the way, it is designated as being from: Seltmann Weiden, Bavaria- Theresia

Biggi

Monday, 4 December 2017

Aloisia's On Our Windowsill.

The mysterious case of yesterday.

Yesterday was a Sunday like any other complete with snoozing on the couch, playing computer games or merely idling away. At five I drove to Deutsch Schützen to listen to the choir heralding the start of advent with some Christmas carols and hopefully that is when it happened.

Early this morning while it was still dark Bob asked me if I could also see a packet outside our window. There is so much reflection that often we see our lounge mirrored in it. On closer inspection I had to agree with Bob. Yes, somebody had left a parcel outside our window. Who, where & most importantly, when?

Bob fetched it inside and it turned out to be a mega sized box of Aloisia's finest Christmas biscuits. Tres nice, tres expensive and tres addictive. We both shouted at the same time:

" Finger weg...Don't open it. "
Bob had watched too many thrillers and thought it might be poisoned and I knew it was poison for Bob. Sugar galore and only a saint could stop after eating just the one. Also I didn't feel like harping all week long.

We both agreed to keep it untouched and re-gift it to someone able to indulge in a kilogram of Aloisia's finest. But another conundrum faced us. Who had left it for us? There was an inscription but not very legible. For over an hour the two of us were going through our combined list of friends and family without getting an eureka moment.

As for when...I hope it wasn't while I was snoozing the afternoon away on the couch because I doubt that I snoozed elegantly enough for a casual window observer. Bob and I have decided that it must have been left while I was at the carol service and he was gaming on his computer. Gosh, he doesn't even answer me when I sit next to him so there is no way he heard a knock on the window.

As to who...phoning people might be awkward in case it hadn't been them and they might take it as a hint.

Regardless, we were both so thrilled to have this mysterious-parcel-adventure and want to say a big Thank you to our secret Santa.

Biggi

Sunday, 3 December 2017

Shopping With My Own 007.

Serendipity or what?

Normally we wouldn't be caught dead at a shopping center on a Saturday in December. Bob needed a new phone as his old one had given up its ghost. Our phone connector happens to have a shop in said center and at least we were there early, just after nine with all the other early shoppers.

The mood was two fold among our brethren as the ' It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ' mood was held in check with again seasonal irritation and grumpiness. Mostly from hapless Dads and husbands having to be present while presents were picked.

Our phone shop has gone one up on high tech and has put an automated numbering system at the front. Oh yes, we are keeping up with the crowds of Vienna indeed. Bob pressed the button and his numbered ticket shot out. He looked at it, started to grin and turned towards me with a ramrod straight back, shoulders high and an assumed secret agent expression...

Oh, I couldn't believe it. My husband had turned into Bob Bond just like that. At my giggling reply he shushed me as the 001-006's turned around and gave him a strange look. One clever lady ( she who'd been labeled 006 ) cottoned on and gave Bob Bond his due and a respectful nod of her head.

Being ready to take a photo at the drop of a hat or draw of a ticket I asked my special agent to pose. He did a ventriloquists impression to not flash about too much.

You know, the two of us were tickled pink and didn't mind having to await the pleasure of the other 00's...and you know how endless a cellphone complaint can be. Hats off to these young guys at A1 for not losing their friendliness and professionalism. Mind you, it was still rather early in the day.

A number to bring a smile to most men.

Biggi

Saturday, 2 December 2017

December, Stunning In Its Own Way.

It's the season to be jolly.

As I am sitting here with my own hot water bottle purring on my lap and looking out one of our kitchen windows, I am stunned at how quickly a year has gone by. Each Christmas dinner it seems inconceivable that soon we'd be eating at the next one but yet, three weeks and it is time again to open presents and have a family dinner.

Tomorrow is the first advent and the local choir will be singing it in in style. Outside, after sundown and with ample Glühwein doled out while the first of four big electric candles is switched on.

This morning is cold enough to warrant a crystal image on the outside of one of our windows. It might be due to this particular window having been forgotten during my window cleaning spurt...I must say that it looks mighty pretty and has given me ideas and possible free time in the future.

Ironically in the height of summer ( plus 40 degree temperatures ) both Bob and I were yearning for winter, cold days and all it brings. Next year I will tape Bob's wishes because the other day when the first snow of the season graced our village he was heard to mutter:

" Agh, I hate snow. "
but somehow his eyes sparkled at the whole concept of a white Christmas. A white Christmas that couldn't be more opposite to what we've had in South Africa. Christmas lunches held around swimming pools, clad in shorts and t-shirts or merely bikinis and board shorts. Sweating was the order of the day and any chocolates received had to be either put into the fridge or eh, eaten straight away.

Let's see what this December brings in regards to weather. I tend to feel that we will have a mild time but the recent spell of icy mornings might prove me wrong. Happy December.

Pretty as a picture...

Biggi

Friday, 1 December 2017

A Deer Or Two And So Much More.

Cold and dreary yet beauty is everywhere.

A pond to ponder most of life...
The colours of Christmas and all that's missing are a few elves.
An ecosystem along the side of a road. The dewdrops are ready to slide down the blades as if they were at the funfair.
Somewhat normal when you look, a bit out of focus but recognizable as a mysterious forest patch but there is method to my madness...
These two deer dashed when they heard me and it was rather cute the way we played peek-a-boo. My camera was out and they kept on hopping between the trees hoping to evade me! Well, a nice parting shot indeed. Go well and stay safe, Bambies.

Biggi

Thursday, 30 November 2017

Our First Snow Day Of The Season.

Waking up to white.

Wistful, mysterious, soothing, romantic, old fashioned and cold all describe the wonder of snowflakes settling down for a while.
The forest is groaning with the combined weight of frozen raindrops. Don't they look invitingly tasty despite being frozen poison berries?
The fields are covered and untouched by tractor or tracks.
A climbing snow man perhaps? The ladder man covered in snowflakes and putting a different accent of the lovely vineyards of Deutsch Schützen.
A vision of romance. Snow is cold yet it is an excuse to light the fireplace, snuggle up on the couch and dive into the realms of a good book.
My walk through the local forest has just become more wonderful. A breath of fresh wintry air...

Biggi

Wednesday, 29 November 2017

Wednesday Seems A Perfect Day To Go Shopping,

Heading to Oberwart on pensioner's day.

The weekly shop was much easier when Bob and I did it together. A team, with Bob organizing the driving, parking, placing goods on and off the conveyor belt and of course stowing all in the chariot. Biggi the bystander!

The tables have turned and as Bob is at work I tend to organize the shopping trips. Winter ones aren't my favourite as it involves schlepping 150 kg of pellets from the shelves into the car and off loading them at home. Yes, today I carried 450 kg at least...

But back to pensioner's day. The roads were devoid of ire, rage or haste and what a pleasure it was to meander along the curving roads to Unterwart. Obi, Fressnapf, Kika and Billa.

Obi was a bit of a challenge. Ah, their trolleys are a nightmare. I needed the bigger one and it won't steer the way one wants it too. In the end one of their staff gave me an insider tip...lead it like you would a sheep, next to you. Well, I traversed a few of Obi's isles with my trolley in tow. Loading the ten bags of pellets was okay ( the only downside to shopping with the older generation is that nobody offers to help due to bad back, legs, hips, knees or sight ) but leading a bucking trolley to the cashiers had me close to the end of my tether and many a customer hopping out of my way.

There was a special on Mausi's favourite food de jour and I pounced, buying 20 cans of Gourmet at half price which prompted the lady behind me to utter;

" Someone's getting spoiled ".
if only she knew how much. Bob and I would be happy if she ate at least 10 of them. Yes, I can hear you but, she is our baby after all...

On the way back home I stopped at the Grosspetersdorf Garage because the front tires looked a bit deflated. They are a full service station or so I thought as now there is nobody there to help. The last time I checked any tire pressure was back in the 90's and I have no clue what to do with that funny machine. Conundrum indeed...but as luck would have it the owner of the garage had just popped in and heard my pleas. Or was he just being polite to an older woman?

Biggi

Tuesday, 28 November 2017

Putting Pen To Paper.

Should be easy, shouldn't it?

The irony of it isn't lost on me. My generation who only heard of computers from the nerdy fringe element is now devoid of opportunities to put pen to paper. Literally. Even now my fingers follow my thoughts at outrageous speed across the keyboard which a few decades ago they did across the full scape pages of notebooks. At one time I even tried to learn shorthand but that didn't work out well.

Maybe a short shopping list which in any case I can never decipher in the shop due to unrecognizable squiggles, filling in my address at a meeting or writing a few names in my diary. Apart from that, writing long hand is an almost lost art. Until now!

My new quest is to write a page a day of nothing, everything or whatever material is close at hand, in order to be reacquainted with my longhand. Just now I sat at the kitchen table with a full scape writing block in front of me, a ball point pen and an old copy of The Economist. Eh, no, I didn't copy any earth-shattering economic news but had to contend myself with writing out an advertisement. The font of articles are very small indeed.

Wasn't it the best to write with a new fountain pen, sharpened pencil or fine ball point pen? Or learning to write in first grade between those three ( or was it four? ) lines. The f, j & g having to go below the line. Back then, who would have ever imagined a world where writing by hand is not required?

Biggi

Monday, 27 November 2017

Monday Morning.

A day like any other or perhaps not.

Another Monday morning, the same as last week and yet not so. Mondays seems to be our reset day. A day to start afresh or a day to bemoan the fates that make one have to go to work.

Some weeks are full of emotional episodes and last week didn't disappoint and as I set off this morning on my walk I did have the smallest little twinkling of " oh no, Monday. " until I started to smell the crisp fresh air, saw the blue blue sky and the beauty all around me. Often we forget to appreciate what we've got and this morning I walked in gratitude.

Noticing the fullness of a glass instead of an apparent emptiness is a skill learned like any other and once acquired this skill is akin to a toned body. It is an ongoing process. Well, there's my mission ahead.

I was reminded this morning on how good it is for the body and mind to walk daily. All I can say is that there's method to my madness...

  • Brain: Just 2 hours of walking a week can reduce your risk of stroke by 30%
  • Memory: 40 minutes 3 times a week protects the brain region associated with memory and planning.
  • Mood: 30 minutes a day can reduce the symptoms of depression by 30%
  • Health: Logging 3500 steps a day lowers your risk of diabetes by 29%
  • Longevity: 75 minutes a week of brisk walking can almost add 2 years to your life
  • Weight: A daily 1-hour walk can cut your risk of obesity in half
  • Heart: 30 - 60 minutes most days of the week lowers your risk of heart disease
  • Bones: 4 hours a week can reduce the risk of hip fractures by up to 43%

A brilliant blue sky with a perfectly placed cloud...a pleasure to go for a walk.

Biggi

Sunday, 26 November 2017

Bob And I Take A Sunday Drive To Hungary.

Sunday grocery shopping...

Bob works during the week and I mostly tend to the shopping side of things but now and again Bob likes to have a go at shopping too. Obviously I don't cater to his love of chips, spicy sausages and breads. Nothing for it but to do it himself.

We knew that Tesco's was open today and with foresight we had a late big breakfast thus not salivating over the baked goods, breads and treats. One can always tell the ravenous lot...empty packets float among their groceries and breadcrumbs cling to the side of their mouths.

Hungarian is a difficult language to learn, understand never mind read. Some of Bob's work mates are Hungarian and they've taught Bob some words. No, not swearwords but numbers, greetings etc.

The aroma of real Hungarian sausage permeated the meat counter and there was no way back for Bob. He had to get some. Standing next to him I was so awed and proud of him when he introduced some of his Hungarian vocabulary into the conversation. The lady behind the counter was pleased and gave him a bigger one.

Bob with great care and pluckiness has picked his way through the linguistically challenged road. Today he mingled German with Hungarian and made me realize what a great man I've married...

Biggi

Saturday, 25 November 2017

Not A Bad Apple In Sight.

My quest to make an apple-strudel

A trip to the bakery was out of the question but my yearning for something resembling cake was unabated. There was still a packet of strudelteig in the fridge and that clinched the deal. One can find culinary intelligentsia that can transform flour and co into a perfect strudelteig alas not here. Pretend homemade stuff will do just fine!

Strudelteig, tick, apples ehh? Bob and I are blessed with a fruit orchard behind the barn and despite it being less than a month to Christmas a few stray apples had kept themselves ready for me.

Equipped with warm jacket and bowl I headed to the back garden avidly followed by a pair of feline eyes from the window sill. Enough red apples were dangling defiently on branches and were easy pickings for me.

Apples peeled, drawn and quartered landed in a pot joined by some dainty raisins to slow cook for a bit. The dough was as easy as pie to handle and from pot to oven tray took less than half an hour. A bit of butter on the edges and in it went. Bob came home early from work and I could surprise him with the wonderful aroma of apple pie baking in the oven. I know it's frowned upon to say it, but it felt good to be at home baking waiting for my husband to come home from work...

A lone red apple dangling on our apple tree. The barn is in the background.
So vibrant and strong.
Apples and dough...
My loyal assistant helping me in the kitchen. Alas, Bob and I demolished the resulting apple pie and therefore I can't show you the proof. It tasted nice though.

Biggi

Friday, 24 November 2017

A Spot Of Road Rage In The Village.

Dear Patience, where art thou?

If I didn't have front row seats I wouldn't have believed it. After a doctor's run we stopped for the obligatory groceries at the local shop. Milk, bread and lotto was on the cards with the odd impulse buy thrown in. My perch is outside and when I see them shuffling closer to the till I rush in to carry the bag. A heavy one today.

But a bit earlier I was chatting outside to our local electrician when a lady parked her car in the middle of the driveway leading to the extra parking. To be fair, most locals ( me too ) park happily somewhere on the road and in peak times it can be an obstacle course to drive past. Well, as she parked her car in a devil may care attitude ( or she was inundated with housewifely thoughts of organizing lunch ) another lady had to park her car elsewhere and threw the most peeved look. Never mind that every one knows everyone else and often from cradle onward.

She noisily put her car into reverse without realizing that the object of her anger wasn't even aware of her parking crime. The electrician I was talking to, quickly ( as men do ) diffused the situation in the best way possible.

" Hey, you better reverse your car. You are blocking the driveway. "
Meanwhile the seething lady parked along the road and stormed into the shop while doing continuous anti aging facial exercises with her eyebrows.

Of course the devilish park'er merely shrugged her shoulders and giggled. I tell you something, standing outside a village shop can be most enthralling and for the cherry on top, at least two gentlemen offered to open the door for me and seemed dashed when I continued to stand outside waiting...

Biggi

Thursday, 23 November 2017

Roses, Vineyards & Cats.

The small things make for a wonderful life.

A mere rose and yet so much more. They emit such a soothing touch at the helm of many a row of vines. Despite it being the middle of November they have kept their rosy bloom.
Not to be outdone the yellow rose beckons forth...
A simple path to happiness. One of the divine paths snaking through the Deutsch Schützen vineyards. Who wouldn't want to walk among that?
Isn't that just too precious? Always reminds me of fairy tales and more.
This kitten looks so much like Mausi that it is uncanny. Each time I walk past it strikes a pose...

Biggi

Wednesday, 22 November 2017

Walls With A Difference.

Black and white photography.

I was in Güssing this morning to do a shop and also to look in on one of our villagers who is whiling the time away at local old age home. As you know, visiting and running the gambit of reminders that we all'll have to age someday isn't for the faint of heart. Nothing like the fun I remember watching on " Golden Girls " back in the day. Wasn't it brilliant and funny while making one look forward to graying temples, stretch pants, adventures and spare time galore?

The lady I was going to visit had moved into a newly built section of the home ( yes, the one industry that's recession proof ) and despite asking for direction I got lost. My brain shut off when they were halfway through directions because I thought I knew... listening is a skill indeed. Wondering along the long drawn out corridors of the home I couldn't help but notice the divine wall art.

Sporadically placed, a whole entourage of old black and white photographs were mounted on the walls. Obviously enlarged but nevertheless, it was so lovely to slowly make my way to the right room. There were depictions of families in the 1930's, youth club year photo of 1966 and numerous visual stories told of a hard life lived.

If they were donated by family of the various guests I am not sure or perhaps these folks hold historical value. There is nothing nicer than to look at an old photograph and imagine the life lived, the joys experienced and the hardships overcome. What an absolutely fabulous idea.

When I eventually found my lady it turned out that she was suffering from a sore tooth and couldn't talk much. As it was obvious that it wasn't a good day to visit I stayed a short while and then left. Oh yes, you guessed it...on the way out I dawdled along the other side of the corridor stepping for a few moments into another era.

Biggi

Tuesday, 21 November 2017

The Mighty Walnut Tree Gets Its Revenge.

A leaf and nothing but a leaf.

As scrumptious as all those walnuts are that is if one bothers to pick them up off the ground, the revenge of their leaves leaves nothing to be desired. Good gracious me... how many can there be?

My mind had it all mapped out. After breakfast I took my rake ( no, not Bob ) and a big green gardening bag and drove to my rendezvous with a blanket of leaves. I had an inkling that the neighbours over there would have come knocking pretty soon. Any old wind tends to deposit many a leave in their gardens. They are so precise as it is and use scissors instead of a lawnmower.

Last year one of them demanded that Bob takes the leaves off the garage roof, a roof not safe to crawl on. No no, we drew the line and chose to drive the other way when we saw him. Luckily for us he has a personalized number plate and is easy to avoid.

I was sure that today would perhaps take two or three bag-runs. Stuff the bag to the rim and carry it about 100 meters to the compost heap in the back of the property. By the fifth time I took off my jacket and promised myself to stop after the eighth.

Who doesn't like to see another person labouring away? Various villagers drove past and they looked pretty happy that it wasn't them having to scrap those stubborn leaves about. One guy drove past a few times because he's never seen me work so hard! Jeez, what a workout. Eight trips to the compost heap turned into 14 and that's were I downed tools. I was finished after two hours of solid power gardening. Truth be told, a few more bags could easily be filled but enough is enough.

Gardening is serious business indeed. Even now, I can feel every muscle complaining and begging me not to go back too soon to do rest of the walnut leaves. Country living, what a blast...

Biggi

Monday, 20 November 2017

A Mystical Monday Morning In Burgenland.

So cold one could see one's breath...

Always the church...this magic and extremely huge tree ( that you can only see a slither of ) can tell many a tale. Locally it's known as the ' kissing tree '
Can you see winter shining through? The air was as crisp as could be and seeing the tundras in front of me made up for leaving a warm house.
I feel like buying some ice-skates to pirouette through the distant field.
The pond. Rather easy ( ! ) to catch fish in it, isn't it? Weekends are usually a crush. Standing room only.
A slice of rural life. Slow living at its best...

Biggi

Sunday, 19 November 2017

All About The Grapes & Nature.

A Sunday of beauty despite the weather being overcast.

A lovely birch tree morphing into a painting.
Sporadic bunches of grapes have been left as an offering to birds and deer. The overcast climes with the inevitable dew drops made this row of vines stunning to see.
The various layers of mist made little islands out of the forest's tree tops.
A bunch of grapes just waiting to be sampled.
An old hunter's lookout and yet a place one wants to be in to survey the forest, deer and birds living in front of it. A flask of hot coffee would be an essential...
The birch trees scattered about the Eisenberg vineyards create such comfort, nostalgia and privacy. A typical cottage on the apex of our local vineyards.

Biggi