German romanticist writers had grand words when describing the multitude of colors and sentiments during autumn season. They might have gone for a leisure stroll in the forested hills behind their house and discovered “Cathedrals of Light” up in the autumn leaves. Indeed, when you look up from way below, as small as you are, into the multi-colored canopy above, you might think you are glancing into a kaleidoscope of stained glass bits.

• Bunt sind schon die Wälder, gelb die Stoppelfelder und der Herbst beginnt. Rote Blätter fallen, graue Nebel wallen, kühler weht der Wind.
• Colored are the forests, yellow are the stubble fields, and the fall begins. Red leaves are falling, gray fogs are wafting, cooler blows the wind.

Johann Gaudenz von Salis-Seewis

I picked the right time to experience the painted forest this year. October in Germany was one of the mildest and prettiest ever recorded. Indian summer is called “old wife’s summer” in Germany, and it really stretched far into what could be the muddy-moody that I am so familiar with. The muddy-moody can be alleviated with reading, sipping herb tea and eating the famous Lebkuchen.

Luckily, I had no muddy-moody experience. To the contrary, the skies were brilliant most of the days. I sat in a café in the remote Jachenau mountain village, drinking excellent coffee and enjoying homemade rhubarb cake with streusel. People—quite a few bikers—were basking in the sun around the Walchensee. The warming rays of the sun felt curative.

No matter where I walked, up the back slope of the Blomberg from the Waldherrn Alm, around the rural neighborhood around the Loisach or a brisk round trip through the hills, meadows, and forests of my home village, I saw decorative foliage everywhere. Many times the “Föhn” cleared the air in front of the impressive formation of the Alps so that the Zugspitze seemed to have moved closer to my village. Idyllic. The cows were still out this late in the year, and the grass was greener than ever. The regular clanking from the bells on the grazing animals lent this picture an almost Buddhist serenity. Would I soon encounter prayer flags in the trees at the top?

Of course not. Yet this part of Bavaria is full of roadside shrines or crosses for the victims of the road. Somehow many paths led me to interesting cemeteries. All gravesites were beautifully decorated, like little flower gardens. And some of the resting places had fabulous views of the mountain ranges in the distance. The vistas were nature’s creation for the relatives to enjoy in front of the departed. A comforting concept.

The splendor of colors was remarkable. I had not experienced the fall season in Germany for a long time. Many years of absence had made the leaves appear more colorful, the air more clear and the harvest moon more intense. One night I saw the blood moon, quite orange, dominating the evening sky, reminding me of the painter Caspar David Friedrich. Another night, the Milky Way sparkled as crisp as a polished Mercedes star down on me. What a “Herbst-Traum” this Germany can be.

“Kirta-Rutsche” in Hofberger’s carpentry workshop

A favorite tradition in Bavaria is the “Kirta-Rutsche.” This traditional swing, a suspended heavy board in the barn, is a hoot with the youngsters. For the Kirchweih (Patron’s Day), a special type of fry noodles are baked. During this harvest celebration, the mood is very happy.

On a whole different note, I was surprisingly “arrested” by TV actor policemen from a popular Krimi series, Hubert (Christian Tramitz) und Staller (Helmfried Von Lüttichau). Quite a unique experience.