Memories Of The Black Forest

The Black Forest’s landscape is a tender memory, carrying me back to the carefree days of my childhood.

Growing up in the bustling sprawl of West Berlin during the 1980s, I was a pale city girl, my world defined by a concrete skyline and the haze of smog. The streets I knew were seas of asphalt, devoid of the gentle presence of trees. Nature was a distant idea, a story of books and dreams.

But one magical winter, my life changed. I was sent to a children’s spa in the Black Forest for two glorious weeks. It was as if the earth itself had been wrapped in a soft blanket of snow, and for the first time, I felt what it meant to be alive amid nature’s grandeur. The crisp air caressed my cheeks, and the trees awakened something long-dormant within me—a yearning for simplicity, purity, and a connection to the earth.

That fleeting moment in the forest altered the course of my life. Since then, I’ve found it impossible to live confined by the grey walls of a city. Nature, in all its quiet splendour, heals us. It reminds us that beauty is not just a thing to behold but a force to be felt—a balm for the soul. And in its presence, we are made whole.