Everything is illuminated in the light of the past.

In Messel there his house covered in Ivy.
In Messel there was a magnificent canyon that he rescued from being filled with trash and debris.
In Messel we swam in deep cold water on hot day.
In Messel the Schlosser held a key to the past and showed us the photos.
In Messel we drank our first German bier that quenched our thirst with a yeasty head and we grazed on ripe rye growing tall in its fields.
In Messel we met the folks that knew us before we were born and we listened to stories abour our grandparents.
In Messel we saw the house we lived in for 230 years.
In Messel the legend was exposed transforming the shadows into stone.

Regards from Holzhausegasse 37. "Gutte."