The South Tyrolean mountain air blows clear and mild,
the valley smells of wood and passing years.
The summer lingers, tender, reconciled,
yet knows its prime has slipped beyond arrears.
The kindly host gives welcome, pours some wine,
before a splendid, alpine scenery.
We sit together, close, by design –
as if soon parted, briefly, we would be.
We talk of God, the world, of this and that,
a joke, a story, laughter fills the air.
Hungry, waiting, glad to sit and chat,
for soon the table offers mountain fare.
What’s served is local – simple, rich, and true,
fresh-roasted, salted, placed upon a board,
a feast of many flavours, mountain hue,
that greedy hands and hearts cannot ignore.
The chestnuts crackle, burst, and send their steam,
the wine soon soothes the calves that strained before.
We eat, content within this rustic dream,
and feel the day drift gently evermore.
Through woods and meadows we had made our way,
with views that carved themselves into our mind,
to keep for later, on some distant day –
not posted, but remembered, softly, kind.
We sip, we nod, enjoy the present hour,
no one here thinks of what tomorrow brings.
The Schüttelbrot breaks – a quiet, humble power,
no other plans, just this – and simple things.
The time slips by, unnoticed, calm and sweet,
perhaps betrayed by how the seasons turn.
What counts is sharing – where good friends meet,
and moments flame, then softly burn.
And as the evening gently starts to fall,
the glasses empty, voices fade away.
We thank the host, the wine, the time, the all –
the day, that silent friend who led the way.
The mountains listen, patient, vast, and still,
the wind drifts softly through the twilight’s seam.
The light trades peaks according to its will,
and quietly dissolves into a dream.
Then rise with calm, without a hint of haste,
no rush, no race – just breathing through and through.
And see – in this unspoken, gentle place –
life nods in silence, softly back at you.
And ultimately, it comes down to this: thank you to the Griesserhof and to Paul — for the warm welcome, for guiding us so openly through the vines and barrels, and for the wonderfully detailed introduction to Törggelen.
Words: Julian Lemme Photos: Robin Schmitt, Julian Lemme