Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Germany. Show all posts

Sunday, July 18, 2010

For the birds



In the nest on top of a chimney several storeys above the main street of the ancient town of Gengenbach in Germany, where they were hatched a few months ago, two young storks await their mother who will soon bring them their food.



I have been watching them through a webcam that that can be trained on them or on various other sights in the town below. It's a sight that I would not be able to enjoy if I were a tourist on the ground.



These young storks are as large as their mother, and I marvel at how mindful of each other's space they seem to be. They barely fit in, or rather, on, their nest, which is more like a platform than a nest. No safety railings here. They could easily jostle each other out of the nest to their doom. When they spread their large wings, they seem to be mindful of where the other one is and so do not inadvertently knock each other off.


Patient watching rewarded with some amusing poses:

One bird, four legs?


Two birds, three beaks?


Two birds, one head?


Recently they have been spreading their wings preparing for flight

Just after I snapped this screen shot, this stork, the larger of the two, rose straight up about a foot into the air as he experimented with flapping his wings. It happened too fast to capture that exciting event.

One day soon they will take to the air on their maiden flight. I fervently hope I will witness that moment.


They will soar above the main street of Gengenbach


Perhaps someone in the market in front of the Rathaus (Townhall) will look up and spot them:


Then they will go about their mission of delivering babies all over the world. No? Well, that was what I was taught in those days when that was as much sex education as you got officially.

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Marktplatz, Coburg

My first view of the Marktplatz of Coburg, an ancient town in Bavaria, Germany, was from somewhere high up in this building, the Rathaus or Townhall.


At the time I was sitting in front of a warm fire here in my home in Seattle with my iPod Touch, having just discovered the wonders of looking at almost anywhere in the world, live, thanks to Livecams, an app with a database of webcams all over the world, and I was looking at the view from one of those cams which looks down on the Marktplatz from high in the Rathaus.


One advantage of watching the world through a webcam is that you can witness the rhythm of the life of a city as it changes from morning through the night, through good weather and bad, from season to season. As a traveller one can usually spend only a few days, a few weeks if one is fortunate enough, in any one place, not long enough for that.

The first time I saw the Marktplatz in Coburg it was nighttime there, eight hours ahead of my Seattle early afternoon. The square was deserted, crisscrossed by the tracks of vehicles in the recently fallen snow.


The next night that same square was alive, brightly illuminated and festive with its Christmas Market.


That scene lasted for some weeks, till one day workers with heavy construction equipment and trucks showed up, dismantling the stalls and taking them into storage for next winter.


Marktplatz reverted to a quiet stately role, the statue of Prince Albert, the consort of Britain’s Queen Victoria at its center. (That match was made here in Coburg and Victoria is said to have declared that she would always consider Coburg her second home. She made several visits here during her reign).

But not for long. One morning I logged on to find the square occupied again with busy stalls and crowds of shoppers milling about them. This had been its traditional role for centuries and the reason for its name Maktplatz. Those stalls would disappear during the night, a cycle, I would soon observe, of a market that takes place every Wednesday.


One weekend recently the square was the venue for an exhibition of classic cars.


Last weekend there was what appeared to be a candlelight vigil, most likely a religious observance.


One evening a large van parked in the square to offload tables and benches. Soon Marktplatz was turned into what must have been a beer garden. You could see smoke rising from the mobile kitchens, enticing, no doubt, with the aroma of bratwurst, urging one to quaff a stein of freshly drawn Bavarian brew! Summer had arrived in Coburg.


At intervals in this constantly changing panorama, a small van or two will park, in the same spot week after week, an awning will be unrolled and an entrepreneur will set up shop for a few hours.

Bustling life is constantly flowing through the Markplatz, but it also ebbs from time to time. Then, the fountains gush but not vigorously, a family strolls through with a toddler breaking from its parent’s hand to run away to the fountain, a mother pushes a stroller, a cyclist rides through, the odd car or truck takes a shortcut, a small knot of tourists clusters around a guide at the base of Albert’s monument. Markplatz, Coburg, may slumber occasionally, but it never sleeps.

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