The trees were brightly lit by the low sunlight that was very visible on this autumn day. I walked in the back of the group and looked at every tree to see if I could find out what was different. The sunlight also shone on the green moss and the brown leaves, which offered a good look. Beyond the fourth tree from the right came a man in green clothes and wearing a black hat, who looked big with his narrow face. Let's assume that there are giants in the forest, because this man did not look like that at all. His small stature and big belly were more like a leprechaun. He stood beside the tree for a while and looked at the group of hikers who were scattered across the forest. With a certain discipline he came to me, keeping his black hat tight on his head. I greeted him briefly with a good afternoon, sir as I almost always did with men. The ranger did not move with his mouth anything to say, but looked at me indifferently and walked quietly towards me. Suddenly he stood a few meters in front of me and pointed at my walking shoes. I just picked up my eyebrows and looked at him in question. Because the sun was everywhere and the noise of traffic on the highway was audible far away, silence was not important. The hikers had already walked a bit further, on their way to the final destination. The ranger named the word: “How do you tie your laces?” “I let others do it and this time I had a fellow walker do it” I answered the question and I pointed to the woman in a bright red coat, who had slowly returned from the group to the two of us. “I can do it even better than her, just with my Boy Scout,” said the ranger and made a gesture with his hands that looked like bobbing laces.

I doubted whether I would trust this man, dressed in green and small stature, and indicated that the woman should come closer. “Do you believe this man can snare better than you?”I asked the woman who had meanwhile been a few meters away from me. The woman said, “yes, I did well myself, so why he thinks he can do it better is a mystery to me.” The ranger looked at the two of us angrily and was clearly uncomfortable. “These laces are so strong, that requires perfection when tying.” “No,” I replied “it has already happened so I'd walk on, just do your job.” Now the ranger became very temper and was about to scream something loudly as if someone could help him in this conflict. He beckoned with his index finger to the woman to come to him, but the woman resolutely refused to stand by.


She beckoned me with her head towards the other hikers to go to the group because otherwise we would miss the train, if at least it was not deserted. My mood was longing for a good train ride to home rather than resolving a conflict in this forest. I decided the first possibility and came into motion to follow the woman who had already set a leg forward on the forest. In less than a minute the ranger had stood next to me and held my left arm in his thick, firm hand. In my ear I heard his voice: “If you leave, I will never be able to help you again, because then you choose the woman.” After this sentence, the ranger unleashed my arm and turned backwards heavily stamping with his huge boots, like sandpaper moving over a smooth surface. My right leg moved with fear, and I swallowed tense through my larynx. The woman did not take a look worthy of the runaway ranger and gave with a hint to catch up with the rear hikers from the group and thus reach the station. I did not think of myself for a moment and followed with stretched steps the still illuminated forest in the woman who had perhaps just traveled less than a mile. Forgetting the conflict I dreamed away when sitting in the blue second class seats in the double-deck trains, on the outside the familiar color yellow with NS logo.

My white-blue purse with white cords hung tight behind my back. A half-soft pear had made sure that my canteen and breadbox had left traces on it. I had thrown the pear away in the Buunderkampbos which no one in the group had noticed. Or they did, that they made up a joke about it that I hadn't heard. I was thinking of one more time when tap water had leaked out of the canteen and turned the bag blank. The tap water had then immediately wet the bag, where the pear with its remains remained. The green remains of the pear were scattered on the bottom of the bag as well as on the canteen and the bread box. Some conversations of hikers for me made me go through where the thought of reaching the purposeful NS station gave me a good feeling. The foreman confirmed this by saying that it was not far, because 15 minutes earlier he had spoken the same message. Only now he really meant it so that the good feeling became more and more real. Where we passed the old villa at the start of this trip we walked through the right side again. In the distance were the lights of a bus, which was there for maybe an hour, but only for the last ten minutes with the driver in his driver's seat at the front right behind the glass windows. In any case, the NS station was now not far and among the many oak trees to see.

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