Mrs. F. my Dear, do you recall this place ? It was dark at night two years ago, and we had a camp fire there, and the river had less water, so we could enter what now looks like an island. You tough me the arts of flipping flat pebbles over the water surface, and when we went home later at night there were hundreds of fireflies that made the nocturnal sky looks like your hair. This year it is still pretty chilly, fireflies are still waiting for warmer days. The lonely fisher-man has to wear a wet-suit. But surely, later at night there will be camp-fires again, and people who wade through the water to gather with their friends.
|Pebble Island in Isar river, north of Oberföhring reservoir|