N is for Natur
- rachseelig
- May 14
- 3 min read
Cognates are a beautiful thing—a lifeline for the language learner.
Nature = Natur. Simple enough. But the nature I picture in English looks different from the Natur I’ve come to know and love here in Freiburg. The smells are different, too.
These days, I wander around the Wiehre—our neighborhood—and breathe in as much elderflower (Holunder) as I can. Speaking of which, have you ever tried an aperitif called a Hugo? If not, consider this a PSA: elderflower-and-lime-infused prosecco may be the answer to all your troubles.
If there’s one thing I’ll truly miss when we eventually leave this place (and believe me, there’s more than one), it’s how effortlessly nature weaves itself into daily life. In Freiburg, no matter where you are, you’re cradled by forest, wrapped in hills, and enveloped in green.
While we were away in Israel for two weeks, Freiburg soaked up a generous amount of spring rain and greeted us upon our return with jaw-dropping lushness. Just behind our house is a small path—the Bergleweg—a short hike leads to a stunning panoramic view and a lovely cafe, where we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with Erol's brother during his visit.
On April 30, we celebrated Leo’s birthday. He was over the moon to be allowed to bring a cake to kindergarten—something that would be downright scandalous in Toronto.
His pirate-themed party followed that Sunday. The weather wasn’t exactly warm, but it was perfect for a treasure hunt. Erol mapped out the route up the Bergleweg, and Rafi helped design the treasure map. We figured we had a solid hour of activities planned. The kids blazed through it in 30 minutes flat. I’ve never seen little legs run that fast uphill—all in pursuit of bouncy balls, bubbles, and Kinder chocolate.
Leo’s German has improved enough that he now asserts himself with ease. During the treasure hunt, he took his role as Captain of the Pirate Ship very seriously—charging ahead of the pack, elbows out, chin up, yelling, “Wartet! Ich bin vorne!” (“Wait! I’m in front!”)
Last week, Erol and Ruben headed to Copenhagen for four days while I held down the fort. If I learned anything during the pandemic, it’s this: the only reliable antidote to sibling squabbles is fresh air. So out we went—constantly.
On Erol’s first day away, we joined Rafi’s class for a family barbecue. Everyone gathered at a local Grillplatz—a kind of rustic campground with fire pits but no tents. While the adults chatted, the kids either climbed the hillside or forged a mucky path along a nearby stream. Two fires blazed, and the kids had their pick between marshmallows and Stockbrot (literally, bread on a stick), which is both messier and less tasty than advertised. I tried to sell the Germans on s’mores, but they were skeptical: You North Americans exaggerate, no?
On Saturday, with Leo now confidently riding his two-wheeler, we cycled to the Wohnhalde—a forested area on the edge of our neighborhood. We passed by the Schrebergärten, Germany’s beloved allotment gardens, which are really more a way of life than a hobby.
Hide and seek was short-lived—devolving quickly into panic and screaming—so I felt relieved when we stumbled upon a makeshift hut built from thick branches. Rafi and Leo instantly transformed into wizards—Merlin and Asterix—and, of course, dubbed me the wicked witch. There was a fair bit of cackling, huffing, puffing, and spell-casting, until I convinced them that I’d evolved into a good witch and maybe we could share a snack?
We sat on tree stumps, nibbled on sliced apples and cashews, and began furnishing our “wizard den” with rocks and bits of bark upon which we sat and enjoyed an imaginary dessert made of dried leaves.
It’s amazing how the forest never fails to fuel the imagination. No breadcrumbs were needed to find our way back to our bikes—just a well-timed ice cream bribe to pedal all the way home.
Natur looks beautiful! What a wonderful experience. Charlie is missing Rafi!