A walking experience | Forum im Seniorentreff

I had not walked this way so often, today it had to be. This way to the small station outside of the place was already arduous, particularly since it would have been better on this uncomfortable winter day to remain at home in the warm four walls.
The trees of the poplar avenue were already hibernating with their bare branches, certainly dreaming of the warming days of the still distant spring. Fog rose from the lowlands and wrapped the fields and meadows in a gray cloth with filigree fringes. The cold winter air crept quietly through the tall dry grasses, many of which were interwoven by white-silver spider webs.
       It was silent. A perfect calm had settled over the land. The birds of summer had retreated, they would now fall silent for a long time. There was a real sense of farewell in the air. The lightness of summer simply disappeared. This mood laid itself crushingly on earth and mind of the people and held them in their spell.
       A stone's throw ahead of me, an old man was walking the same path. His steps were slow and ponderous. His left hand was deep in his jacket pocket. The right swung around, occasionally reaching into space or gesticulating. It seemed as if he was discussing with an invisible person. Whenever his hand reached to the right, he also turned his head in the same direction. Then his steps also seemed somehow lighter, more buoyant.

       I had been walking behind this man for quite some time. I watched him curiously for quite a while. I adapted my steps to his pace and soon we had arrived at the small station. On the narrow platform already, some persons waited for the small red railcar, which had to arrive shortly.
       This station had seen better times. In the past, it was a popular meeting place for the people of the small town. At times, even express trains stopped here to transport passengers to the big city. Today, with its morbid Gründerzeit façade, it not only looked dilapidated, it was. The plaster had come off the wall in many places and lay in ugly little heaps at the edges of the building. It was as if life here had finally taken its leave of time. For a long time now, only the regional train used this station as a stopping point.
       Over the consideration of the platform, I had passed the old man unintentionally and stood now some meters beside him. His whole life was readable from his face. The look appeared dull, dark rings framed the eyes. Deep wrinkles stretched through his face as if notched. Coming closer, his eyes seemed less tired. It seemed almost mischievous when he looked to the side and kept glancing to the right. He whispered softly and placatingly to an imaginary person.
       When he noticed me, he apparently felt caught, gave me a friendly nod, and said softly with a smile in his eyes: "You know, she's about to leave for her mother's!"
At my astonished look, he then added, "We've never been apart in 60 years. She's a little awkward there. But I'm here!" With that he winked at me with a smile and then looked into the void beside him with a reassuring look. At the same time, his right hand tenderly stroked the air. We stood a few arm's lengths apart. I could hear him whispering, but could not understand his words.
The gray fog hovered like a veil over the station and the tracks, swallowing the sounds almost beyond recognition. I would even go so far as to say that it also settled on my mind. I became very thoughtful at the sight of the old man. The short regional train finally crept out of the curtain of fog. I got on, saw the old man still standing on the platform and looking into a compartment window. His face in the dim light seemed frighteningly gray. Tears were running down his cheeks. Then he slowly raised his right arm and began to wave. His gaze looked into the void - into infinity.
       On the seat in front of me sat two young people who had also just gotten on, I noticed them shaking their heads in amusement:
"Look at that crazy old man! He's standing there again and waving. Yet his wife has been in the ground for two years!"
With teary eyes I looked after the old man when the train started again.
       I had been walking behind this man for quite some time. I watched him curiously for quite a while. I adapted my steps to his pace and soon we had arrived at the small station. On the narrow platform already, some persons waited for the small red railcar, which had to arrive shortly.
       This station had seen better times. In the past, it was a popular meeting place for the people of the small town. At times, even express trains stopped here to transport passengers to the big city. Today, with its morbid Gründerzeit façade, it not only looked dilapidated, it was. The plaster had come off the wall in many places and lay in ugly little heaps at the edges of the building. It was as if life here had finally taken its leave of time. For a long time now, only the regional train used this station as a stopping point.
       Over the consideration of the platform, I had passed the old man unintentionally and stood now some meters beside him. His whole life was readable from his face. The look appeared dull, dark rings framed the eyes. Deep wrinkles stretched through his face as if notched. Coming closer, his eyes seemed less tired. It seemed almost mischievous when he looked to the side and kept glancing to the right. He whispered softly and placatingly to an imaginary person.
       When he noticed me, he apparently felt caught, gave me a friendly nod, and said softly with a smile in his eyes:
"You know, she's about to leave for her mother's!"
At my astonished look, he then added, "We've never been apart in 60 years. She's a little awkward there. But I'm here!" With that he winked at me with a smile and then looked into the void beside him with a reassuring look. At the same time, his right hand tenderly stroked the air. We stood a few arm's lengths apart. I could hear him whispering, but could not understand his words.

The gray fog hovered like a veil over the station and the tracks, swallowing the sounds almost beyond recognition. I would even go so far as to say that it also settled on my mind. I became very thoughtful at the sight of the old man. The short regional train finally crept out of the curtain of fog.
I got on, saw the old man still standing on the platform and looking into a compartment window. His face in the dim light seemed frighteningly gray. Tears were running down his cheeks. Then he slowly raised his right arm and began to wave. His gaze looked into the void - into infinity.
    On the seat in front of me sat two young people who had also just gotten on, I noticed them shaking their heads in amusement:
"Look at that crazy old man! He's standing there again and waving. Yet his wife has been in the ground for two years!"
With teary eyes I looked after the old man when the train started again.

©by H.C.G.Lux

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English A walking experience