Himmelssäulen

Medebach-Glindfeld (51.198797 | 8.642142)

Reverence

Row of trees with 38 Douglas firs. These giant trees, which are over 130 years old, are the largest living things in the Sauerland and up to 63 m high.

A visit to the largest creatures in the Sauerland. They stand there, 38 in number, in a neat row, and don't budge. The forest giants have been standing stubbornly in the trellis for 127 years. While the spruce trees around them have proven to be quite the topplers when the winds blow harder, the Douglas firs have defied even a hurricane like the legendary Kyrill. Always stable, always green. At 63 meters, they are already as tall as the tower of St. Peter and Paul in Medebach (including the weathercock), and they can continue to grow in height for another 200 years.

We are standing next to Douglas fir number one, the tallest of them all. Anni Kuhler and Hildegard Althaus, who led me here, ignite a veritable firework display of facts in a practiced interplay. The two, born in Medebach, friends for decades, admirers of the giant trees for decades, regularly hike with groups into the Jungholz. That's the name of the forest near the Douglas firs. They think it's a good place to teach reverence for creation. Not with a raised index finger. But in a playful, sensual, tactile way.

The two of them have that sparkle in their eyes when they rave about the special trees. That is transferred. Even to the pupils, who are actually unfamiliar with nature, who don't have a water bottle with them on a hiking day, but do have money because there's bound to be a store in the forest. Smartphone kids who are more familiar with purple cows than real ones. But these trees... boah, they're huge... and already so old... I have to put my head way back on my neck and still can't see the top... I wonder how many children it would take to reach around the trunk? 'And then we have them,' says Anni, her bright blue eyes shining.

The little ones are sent off to count the trunks. They run up and down the row of trees, let off steam and learn by playing. They watch how heights can be measured with just a stick held arm-length in front of the face and counted steps. They learn that Douglas firs are cheat trees. 'If they are injured, they quickly close the wound with their thick Borke. That's why they are so resilient. It's only at the sawmill that you can see where the wood is irregular. Carpenters don't think that's so great.

'When we tell the children stories in the great outdoors, they become unusually quiet,' says Hildegard. She has the comparison, before retiring she was a teacher. The fine white webs of the gossamer moth? That's fairy fabric. The red foxglove? See all those dots inside the flower? Those are landing strips for bumblebees. A rope to which ivy tendrils are knotted? Curtain up, enter the other world. Another magic trick: nettles that don't burn - if you stroke the leaves from the bottom up.

The two then talk about the "Promised Feast", well-rehearsed, like an old married couple. During the Thirty Years' War, the enemy Swedes and Hessians advanced on the town. The people of Medebach fled with bag and baggage to Jungholz. They built huts, used caves, ate berries and mushrooms. And they vowed: When this plague is over, we will celebrate a feast - every year. They kept their vow. In the past, the Promised Feast was a "fast day for humans and animals" on which no one from Medebach was allowed to leave the town. To this day, the stores close, and instead people go to church and procession. Was the fire in 1844 the punishment for the fact that the pledge had been let slide in the previous years? I listen to the two of them spellbound. And I admit: the little boy in me would also love a school hike like this. There are two things that really captivate everyone: Play and stories.

Joy and amazement are our companions in the Jungholz. The Douglas firs stand out from a mixture of beech, spruce and silver fir trees like giants in a crowd. They are foreigners, now well integrated. When the Royal Prussian Forestry Office sent seeds by the sack in 1890 with instructions to give this North American tree a try, German foresters didn't quite know how to deal with the foreigner. In Medebach, the trees were planted one meter apart, as is usual with spruces, but far too close for mammoths. In the meantime, more and more Douglas firs are being planted. Spruces are fast and forest owners can watch their yield grow. But Douglas firs hold their own against storms, drought and bark beetles. They win the race in the long term.

My two companions pay tribute to them, and not just botanically. In their eyes, this is a gallery of Himmelssäulen. Firmly rooted and soaring high. Hildegard says: 'These trees are so much taller than us humans. I stand in front of them, look up and can no longer take myself so seriously. Anni adds: 'That teaches humility. And that's good for me.

Author: Michael Gleich