Days of Sun and Fog

"Heller wird es schon im Osten

Durch der Sonne kleines Glimmen,

Weit und breit die Bergesgipfel

In dem Nebelmeere Schwimmen"

~ Heinrich Heine, The Harzreise

I find myself taking refuge from the cold and the fog to indulge in a warm cup of coffee and a fresh roll. I am in Quedlinburg, in a bakery, and it is late fall in the Harz. To get the blood once more flowing in my fingers, I decided it was appropriate to write about the happenings of the last few days--as it is also long overdue. Each day has been full, with its own successes and progressions, such that I should have no problem filling the page with news and images.

The weather has been very off and on, but regardless of the amount of sun or the height of the mercury in the thermometer outside my window, the Harz never fails to provide a breathtaking panorama of beauty and wonder. On Tuesday I was picked up by Rike's boyfriend, Christian, and we took off for an afternoon of exploration. Christian grew up in the Harz, and knows the ins and outs of the woodlands in a way that only a lifelong resident can. The clouds broke for us on Tuesday, and the colors of fall burst forth around Langenstein as we exited the blue Volkswagen to tackle a stretch on foot.

I knew Langenstein from my earlier days in the Harz, and had hiked there on occasion from Halberstadt by way of the Spiegelsberg. Then, Langenstein wasn't much more to me than a small stretch of cobblestone road lined with houses, standing between Halberstadt and Blankenburg. The surrounding landscape smelled of farm life, and a walk through the little Dorf can't help but make you think of Bilbo and the Shire. But there was more here than met my eye at the time, and this was made clear to me on that fall morning as Christian and I wandered around the surrounding woods. A monument site of past tragedies, entrances to massive underground bunkers built during the war and used through the DDR days; and on top of a nearby hill, the land spreads out before you, begging to be explored. The Brocken is visible today, as are the towers of the Halberstäter Dom and the Martini Kirche.

We drove on to Thale--Christian's hometown, and site of the Hexentanzplaz, Rosstrappe, and Bodetal. Above the Bode River we lunched and talked about the Harz of past, present, and future. The sun hangs low on these fall days, and at three in the afternoon there is already the promise of a breathtaking sunset.

The following day I ventured alone back into the shallow grounds of the Harz. The sun again shone bright above Blankenburg as I made my way along the road to the Regenstein. The Regenstein is a ruined castle--originally built during the early middle ages--and much of what remains was carved out of the mountain itself. The eeriness of the caverned rooms that remain are both chilling and awesome, permitting the imagination to run wild. A legend of the Regenstein states that a princess was once held captive in the fortress by the Count of the Regenstein. Over the course of a year, she was able to use her diamond ring to carve a hole out of the fortress and escaped. When she returned with her family to seek revenge, the Count had fled. A while later, she noticed a small amount of smoke trickling out of a crack in the mountain. Looking inside, she saw the Count in Purgatory. Taking pity, she threw him her ring so that his soul might be able to escape.

By way of an early train I made my way to Quedlinburg. The sun has since retreated, surrendering to the fog of an approaching winter. I have spent much of the day searching through various used bookstores for literature on the Harz. Much of what I have been able to find is nothing special, but I received a tip about a used bookstore in Goslar where I should be able to find exactly what I am looking for.

Quedlinburg is a UNESCO world heritage site, and not one to be missed. The fachwerk houses are breathtaking, and the old town winds around itself multiple times with surprises around every corner. The fog remains deep, and I have another hour before my train departs for Halberstadt. Goslar awaits in the morning, and I'll take one more cup of coffee for the road.