Hollenhaus

Schmallenberg-Bödefeld (51.229258 | 8.390949)

To have and to be

Moss-covered rock in the middle of a deciduous forest, which is the subject of the Bödefeld Hollensage legend

In the parking lot on the outskirts of Bödefeld, my companion, photographer Klaus-Peter Kappe, says: "This isn't a rock we're going to now. It's a Hollenhaus." He then tells the legend of the Hollen. They were good forest creatures who lived deep in the rock. They were friendly to friendly people and helpful in times of need. They were particularly fond of the Bödefeld children, who loved to play near the rock. Their self-forgetful play touched them and they liked to join them. In the evening, when the little ones had to go back to the village, they gave them small, beautiful, shiny stones. For the children, they were nothing but gifts that made their hearts happy. But their parents saw that it was pure gold! The adults' greed awoke. They wanted more. They searched for the treasure's hiding place by the high rock in the forest in order to steal it. As punishment, the Hollen blocked all the entrances and turned their house into a giant rock. They were never seen again.

For centuries, the Hollenhaus has touched people in the area. The old legend, which they pass on from generation to generation, is an expression of this resonance. It contains wise insights: that the desire to have destroys a carefree existence; that greed hardens; how adults lose their childlike innocence.

We approach the Hollenhaus on a forest path that climbs gently. It has started to rain, lightly at first, then in torrents, and now, as we reach the viewpoint at the top of the rock, hail is pelting down on us. We all agree: get back to dry land as soon as possible. But then the hail stops abruptly, the sun fights its way through and we witness a divine spectacle. The forest floor, thickly padded with moss, begins to steam. Mist rises. Rays of sunlight penetrate the canopy of the beech trees, fanning out as if their light were refracted through colored stained glass windows.

The bright yellow lichen spreading across the underside of the rock begins to glow. Against this backdrop, the bare trunks of dead trees look like the pillars and columns of a mighty cathedral, the large tree mushrooms against them like stone sculptures. The beginning of the poem "The Church of Nature" comes to mind:

The forest is like a church,so enter with devotion,there birds sing happy songs,with your God you are alone!t you alone!There you will find cathedrals, wide halls, but also chapels, large and small, where moss-covered benches invite you to quiet prayer.

My companion feels the same way. "We live in a landscape that has been shaped by man through and through. Fields and meadows, roads and paths, landscaped forests," says Klaus-Peter. "But here, at the Hollenfelsen, there's such a chunk of unspoiled nature bursting out of the ground. For me, this is the great cathedral of the forest, where I feel closer to the elemental force of nature and God than in other places." Resonance cannot be created. It happens. However, it is possible to name conditions that are conducive to something resonating in people. Slowness. Leisure. Silence, sensuality. And also the stories that surround a place. I see what I know. The legend of the Hollenhaus triggers thoughts: How often the desire to have destroys free being, innocent joy, self-forgetful play. Isn't it the case that I am desperate to have a photo of the forest cathedral right now (to show it off later as a trophy) - instead of simply lingering in it, being there, letting the moment stretch into eternity, as I have often experienced when hiking?

The example of the Hollenfels makes it clear how important it is to create good conditions so that a place can touch us. Although we have a beautiful view of the valley from the vantage point at the top of the cliffs, we feel less resonance than on the new path that leads from the forest road up to the awe-inspiring rock. The slow ascent opens up ever more spectacular views of the steep wall. Step by step, feeling your way up, getting involved. Rock sculptures emerge, into which we fantasize mythical creatures. We enjoy the play of colors of lichens and mosses, the dance of mist and sun. The skillful dramaturgy of the approach lets the place "shine in the best light".

Author: Michael Gleich