No rain to talk about as yet and only sporadic traffic far off in the distance. Dogs barking in Seegrehna. Perhaps they sense the prowling wolves coming closer. Close by it was just a lonely beaver gnawing away at some old logs in the gurgling stream. The moon was half-full, high in the sky and reminding us of the Psalmist praying under similar conditions: “The Lord watches over you— the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.” (Ps.121:5-6) Wrapped tightly into warm stuff against the frost, I kept my ears clear though – and my nose. Wanted to catch the first warning signals be it a twig snapping or a wiff of dirty pig. I was ready for the invasion. Oh, how I longed for it. Trigger happy. I´d give them a most fitting welcome. So, let them come – all twenty of them.

As the eyes got accustomed to the dim light, the ears caught solitary bird calls from the forest. Eventually a long-eared owl started its regular hooting. Distinctive. You could not miss it. Soothing to the soul and ever so comforting to lonely creaturs out in the wilderness. Very clearly distinguishable from other owls in the German forest. Here´s a link to some more pictures of these nightly predators hunting pine forests, open meadows and tended fields.

Well, I think, they understand about social distancing. There was no answering call in response. Just that one regular cry out there in the bush. It continued all along – like clockwork. Just a break now and again before picking up pleading from another hot spot. Loved it! And in formidable cooperation, we kept the hogs out. All night long – even as my thoughts drifted with Joseph von Eichendorff to coming summer nights, which will be more balmy, but hopefully with more hunting luck: “Waidmansheil”, but not as bloodthirsty as Rammstein would like to make it out…