Saturday: Grupont and the L'Homme. Twenty primal people crawled out of their car den. Several tribes from the four corners of the world, accompanied by the sun, the east wind and the grey, wise chief. Our great cravings.. Mammoth hunters could, herbalists certainly.
It' s something! After the long winter, only the tough ones among us have been on a winter trip, this is the first time we really come out. My mind is prepared for this journey, cleaned with nettle and birch sap. Body and mind can now open up further. My plant friends are at the party. We see and feel the yellow flowering primroses and celandine (which is only yellow and green), the blue blooming and scented march violet, the prehistoric arum, the cheerful white forest anemone and the dark lungwort. All plant feelings are present.
In a wide open landscape after about half an hour (introduced to other tribes), the landscape becomes a bit more bushy and this is where my first feeling comes. Apparently, I need some run-in time anyway. A sensation around my 'steps': I step and step, how can I always step and feel that only now. Aware of their own play of feet, I hear the Big Bear say: “You are silent people!” Admiration or wonder?
After a first firm slope, a sheet-sweater is swung away, our temperature and measured heart rate rises, as well as the atmosphere. Quiet, group spirit, vibrations, man and cosmos in motion. We are approaching the Lhomme, it is lunch break and so we have our brought sandwiches with a little wild green.
After the rest, walk in for a while but then rise steadily. I see the outstretched, trembling hand, bundled fears become forces. Then towards the railroad, on the sloping stone slope we gain a lot of knowledge. We pick in the rosettes of the biennials, king candle, wild reseda and foxglove, but we also see the leaves of the not yet flowering St. John's wort and wild marjoram.
Then we walk right through the meadow. The soft spring grass is delicious after the scratching blackberry bushes we have on it before. The day is also far advanced, that farmer he returned home. We also return to the camp site, after our dive in the fresh green.
After a luxurious shower, the feast is already on its way... soup with “picked” field cherry, macaroni with Flemish vegetables and dessert Ardennes cake... a person wants something after such a day. So around 23 o'clock I climb the ladder of my bedstee... I'm happy. Those thousands of steps from my feet feel like vibrations from the earth's crust. I surrender to the narrowness of my sleeping bag until the crack of the morning, until I unzip myself again.
Special thanks to Irene. Wo bist du bleve?