Stories of my Life

The Story of a Picture

The Story of a Picture

A picture can say more than thousands words ...- or it can need more than 1000 steps to get it. So it happened with the following one, which was shot in the last year in summer

Heinrich von Bünau

It was on a saturday during lunchtime, when I reached the small village with the many hills surrounding it. When I left the railway station, I made a short stop and took a deep breath of fresh air. "What a lovely place in midst of all this forested hills".

My eyes went along the hill range and a big cross caught my attention:" How big will it be? It is so good visible from here," I thought by myself. " I would like to have a closer look at it" I sighed. There would be not enough time for it.


It was the 80. birthday of my aunt and she had invited the relatives into a hotel in this lovely small mountain village. I was the latest newcomer, because all others had checked in the evening before.

"Your aunt has expected you earlier, but now all have left the hotel for a sightseeing tour in the surroundings. They will back at evening for a big dinner!" I was informed by the man behind the reception.

So I brought my small baggage up to the hotelroom, took my digitalcamera and a village map, and left the hotel again.


Where could they be? I looked around up to the hills, looked in my map. I could not come to a conclusion. " I do not know!" had the receptionist answered my question with an apologizing gaze . "They can be everywhere!"

Perhaps to comfort me a little bit he had added:" Perhaps you should go up the big mountain . You know, that one with the ski lift!" I remembered! He continued "There is a sightseeing restaurant and I have heard, that they wanted to take there coffee and cakes later."

I looked up to that hill. Ok, perhaps I should follow that advice. It would take me some to get up there. I looked at my watch: 2 o`clock p.m . "May be they will take coffee and cakes at four o`clock."

Enough time!


continuation will follow

Add comment to this page:
Your Name:
Your message: