The Elements at war

It has been oppressively hot in Germany over the past week or so.  

Hot and extremely humid.

We seemed to go from cool weather in which we wondered whether the summer would ever arrive, to having it suddenly switched on and put on 'extra high'.  The high level of pollution in the skies over  the wide shallow valley in which Dusseldorf sits, combine to keep the heat in one place for long periods of time.

Combine this with hundreds of children under the age of twelve who spend lunchtime running around on the playground, and then come, sweaty and smelly, to the Library for book choice time and I think you get this picture.  With no air conditioning the classrooms and the library gradually warm up and by the time we are ready to go home we are well nigh wilting!

And then on top of all that we have had 'The Storm'.

* * * * * *

Monday was a public holiday (Pentecost Monday) and had proven to be rather a pleasant, albeit warm, day:

In the evening we had dinner on our balcony:

We admired the first of our Asiatic lilies to flower:

An hour later and we were running about battening down the hatches!

http://liveblog.t-online.de/Event/Schwere_Unwetter_wuten_uber_Deutschland_2

The storm came rolling across the sky before we were ready for it.  The clouds were suddenly yellowish and extremely angry looking.  

Full bellied with mischief.

The birds had all gone quiet.  The wind picked up and reading the signs, we and our neighbors began to take down the pot plants, lay the tables and chairs on the balcony floor, and take inside everything that might be considered fragile.  

Then the storm hit.

The sky was suddenly as black as night and the sound of thunder was everywhere. 

(I recall that my great-grandmother had a habit of waking up the entire household if a storm occurred at night.  She would everyone get up and go down to the cellars, no matter how fast asleep they might have been.)

As the storm vented its full fury upon us, I stood at the doorway and try to make some videos with my iPad, but it was too dark and too violent and so we abandoned the idea and retreating inside, closed the doors, the windows, and pulled down the external blinds.  

There was one truly enormous crack of thunder right above the apartment that frightened the living day lights out of us but then, after a while it all seemed to die down and we went to sleep.  At 5:30 in the morning it started up again, even more violently than previous.  I slept like a babe thoughout this second round but AGA was awakened and stayed awake for quite a while.    A parent I was talking to later at school told me that at the height of the storm she witnessed a fire ball!

In the morning all was calm once again.  Birds were singing and all was peaceful.  I looked out of the sitting room windows but could see no damage, and as we began our walk to school I said to AGA that it appeared to have been a lot of bluster but not much else.

But as we walked through the village we realized that it had been a lot more than mere bluster...

Here is the Linden Avenue that leads out of Kaiserswerth, last weekend:

And here it is yesterday, after the storm:


I do not know why some trees were spared while others fell.

Our end of the village was blocked by falling trees

...while the other end was flooded because the drains had backed up under the huge volume of water.  The roads were bumper to bumper with traffic as cars navigated fallen trees on the main roads in order to get to work.
For our part, we walk to school and so we had to navigate our way around (or over) various fallen trees on the way…

The massive trunks had to be climbed over and I soon realised that I am not as nimble as I was when in my twenties…

We passed parents walking their children in the opposite direction, to get to the local village kindergarten:

No cars could get through.

No one was going to be able to move their cars until the trees were cleared.  I think that a lot of branches came down because they were laden with flowers.

Imagine the force that broke and twisted this tree:

The branch of this tree (together with the top part) was snapped off and blown into the nearby allotments.  It crushed the little allotment houses and took a day to saw up and clear away.

These few photographs show the damage in our small village.  It was duplicated all over the city and the general area on a much grander scale.  On the weekend I am going to walk by the river to see what has happened as I am  told that most of the trees lining the Rhine have been blown down. 

Trees had fallen on the tram lines, upon countless cars, on houses.  Lightning strikes caused fires despite the driving rain.  Sadly six people were killed - cyclists and gardeners caught unaware - but considering how swiftly the storm blew up, and its ferocity, it is surprising there were not more.

We are going to have a lot of disruptions as gangs slowly clear the debris.  

On a lighter note, a student told AGA that their trampoline was blown clear away and they have no idea where it went.  I was telling a colleague who told me that she counted four floating in the Rhine - carried there by the force of the storm.  Others were blown in to fields. Our lily lost one petal and  another one bravely opened, as if to defy the elements!

There were many other areas in Germany that were hit harder than we were and the storm seemed to make the heat and humidity even worse.  As I write this we are experiencing a little relief although it is still 22c at 8:12 in the evening.

. . . and because we live in the 21st Century where iPods and iPads and mobile phones are our means of instant communication, everyone - young and old - have been out and about taking photos and movies and whatnot.  And so I joined them to provide you with a small window on what we have experienced here in the last forty-eight hours.  

If you are interested you can read more about the storm here.

Happy 1,300th Birthday to you!

The First of March is a special day for many reasons.

Traditionally it is the first day of Spring and, I am pleased to say, the freezing cold weather does indeed appear to be on the wain.  This past week has seen the snowdrops out in force:

In Wales, the First day of March is the Feast Day of Dewi Sant, known in English as Saint David.  Saint David is the Patron Saint of Wales.

Meanwhile. . . 

. . . Here in Germany, the First of March is the feast day of another Saint: St Suitbertus, sometimes called Swidbert, or Swithbert, or even Switbert.  In this post I am going to stick with the latinized version: Suitbertus.

Suitbertus is one of the Patron Saints of Germany (there are a few).  Interestingly he, like me, was born in England, and moved to Germany for work; but while my work is in the field of education, Suitbertus' work was all about the care of souls because he was an early missionary.

They say that he came from an aristocratic family in Anglo-Saxon Northumbria and pious legend tells us that prior to his birth, a star let his parents know that their child was destined to be a great missionary.  This is why he is usually portrayed with a star in his hand:

This image comes from the following website: http://www.solingeninternet.de/sihgw/images/missionardesbergischen_stsuitbert.jpg. 

It was accessed on 1 March 2013

Born in about 650, Suitbertus was a man of action.  A Benedictine monk; he trained as a priest and spent some time studying in Ireland after which he returned to England; ready, willing, and able, to be a missionary to Northern Europe.  This work is sometimes known as the 'German mission'.

The mastermind behind the German mission was a chap named Egbert of Ripon.  He was an Anglo-Saxon priest based in Ireland where Suitbertus had studied and who was busy organising a group of missionaries to head deep into non-Christian territory.  Suitbertus was eager to take part and returning to England he met up with another chap named Willibrord.

Willibrod was in charge of the Mission.  He and his companions however were not your ordinary everyday, prayerful choir-monks.  They were aristocratic, highly educated, devil-may-care individuals ready for adventure and who were more than equal to the task at hand.  They could speak with any local ruler as with an equal, and arriving in Frisia they set to work.  They knew it was dangerous and that in all likelihood a horrible death could be their lot but still they persevered.

Frisia was the coastal region of what is now Germany and the Netherlands.  The people there were considered to be quite ferocious and I am surprised that Willibrord and his group made any headway at all.  An earlier mission led by St. Wigbert had failed, utterly destroyed by the fearful Frisian leader, Ratbod.

Ratbod was not a man to brook any opposition and he looked upon Christianity with some suspicion because his enemies, the West Franks, were themselves Christians.  He decided that he was having none of it and swept down, massacred the Frisian converts and drove the missionaries away.  Willibrord however had an ally in his work because Pepin of Heristal the Frankish leader, had recently conquered the southern part of Frisia from Ratbod and in the area safe under Pepin's rule the missionaries (including Suitbertus) were able to flourish, meeting with great success.

But Suitbertus wanted to do more.  His eye was fixed firmly on the east.

With Willibrord's blessing he left briefly for England, and was consecrated Bishop.  He then returned, and having spent some time with his old friends, headed east with a small group of followers.  He had a fair amount of success until invading Saxons undid it all.  The people he worked with were Eastern  Franks.  They were no match for the Saxon hordes who suddenly swept down upon them.  Most of the converts were massacred and Suidebertus himself taken prisoner.  Undergoing long periods of torture meant to break his spirit, he eventually managed to escape and make his way back to the land of the West Franks.  His health broken by his incarceration and periods of intense physical abuse, he was no longer able to be a part of the missions and Pepin gave him an island on the Rhine, well within Frankish territory, where he could live in peace. The island was originally known as  the Rhinhusen, then Suitbertuswerth, and eventually Kaiserswerth.

Suitbertus died 1 March 713on his island, aged about sixty-three.

By 804 he had been canonised by the Church and his remains moved to a shrine in the monastery church.

That church was burnt down some time later while Ratbod was conquering Frankish territory.  It was rebuilt after he had been soundly beaten, then destroyed, rebuilt, destroyed, rebuilt, remodelled, renovated, etc etc until we have the church as it stands today:

The relics of St Suitbertus were lost during the religious upheavals that marked the Reformation and the Counter Reformation however they were relocated in 1623 and placed within a golden shrine, modelled on the shrine of The Three Kings which can be seen within the cathedral at Koln.

Before WWII the Basilica of Kaiserswerth looked like this:
In 1945 it looked like this:

Hit by a bomb during the closing stages of the war it was the only significant damage suffered by the village.  The bombing left the interior looking like this:

Today the Basilica looks like this:

The four towers are gone.  There was no money for such extravagances when the rebuilding took place.  The end result however is still rather pleasing:

Times change everything.

St Suidbertus no longer resides within his golden shrine.  That sits on the High Altar, behind bullet-proof, shatter-proof glass so that it cannot be stolen.


The Saint himself resides in here:

Down in the crypt, but following tradition, every so many years his sacred relics are brought out, placed back in his shrine, and paraded around the village to ensure good luck and his blessings:

This photograph is on a display of the history of the Basilica.  We have not been lucky to see the event while living here but it certainly looks impressive.

So why am I telling you about all this?
Well, this week marks the 1,300th anniversary of St Suidbertus' death; his promotion to Heaven.  And despite the fact that we are officially 'enjoying our greyest ever winter on record, Kaiserswerth is in a festive mood:

There was a pontifical Mass today within the Basilica, attended by the Archbishop of Koln, and various other Church and Political Dignitaries.  Everybody wanted a little blessing from our Saint.

So, in honour of St Suitbertus, AGA and I went for a short Suitbertus inspired stroll around the village.

Snowdrops and Robins led the way, past the old house on the corner of our avenue which marks one of the old towers when we had a protective wall around us; and then down the alleyway leading to An St. Swidbert.  This road is the way 'in' to Kaiserswerth and is guarded by a statue of the good man himself:

His star sits snuggly within his crosier.

a few houses down and there is the rather exclusive Suitbertus archdiocesan Gymnasium (Senior School)

The school sits on the spot where Suitbertus' monastery was situated.  It is a somewhat dull looking, modernist structure totally not in keeping with the village but right next door is the old Capuchin Monastery which is now part of the school.  Its chapel is now the school's chapel and as the door was open, we popped inside for a look:
And there, on the side wall is a nice portrait of St Suitbertus and his star:

It was hard to take this photograph because the light was bad and the flash kept 'going off' however you get the general idea.

Continuing our 'rounds' we stopped to see how high the river was:

It has dropped considerably since the last time I looked (thank goodness).  I wondered whether if ever flooded in St Suitbertus' time?

Then we moved on to the Basilica where Holy Mass had just finished.  We stopped at the main door which isn't often used these days and has been partially blocked:

That white piece of plaster above the old door frame shows the 'Hand of God'.  It didn't come out very well in this photograph.  I might try and take a better photograph at another time.

Here is the interior showing the main altar:

It was a lot more ornate prior to the bombing but I like the airiness and the simplicity of it all as it now is.  The banner of St Suitbertus is on display and numerous votive candles have been lit today in his honour.

I hope you liked this little 'exposé' on our local Saint.

We ended our St Suidbertus day with a slice of newly made pear tart:

Well, that's all for this post.  Until next time . . .

Snow Schmow

http://fr.wikipedia.org

So there we were: Walking to work.  

AGA suggested taking a camera with us because it was snowing and we could get some photographs for my blog:

The large flakes of snow, falling gently to earth, lent a magical air to the proceedings, despite the fact that it was freezing.   I was even feeling good enough to allow AGA to take my photo:

As we got nearer to our place of work I put the camera away and we chatted about the day and how pleased we were that the following week was half term holiday. . .

Then I stepped on a large piece of plastic hidden by the newly fallen snow.  

The next thing I knew I was laying flat on my back involuntarily making a snow angel!

I was so lucky that AGA was with me as I don't think that I could have got up by myself at that moment, having hit my head on the pavement in the process of falling.

Without going into all the details, I hurt my hip and suffered mild concussion.  I didn't have to stay in the hospital (although I was obliged to go there for a check) but I did have to stay home for the rest of the day and the next, however there was to be no computer, no TV and no watching DVDs.

I didn't mind so much as I was allowed to read and loving reading as I do, it was like experiencing guilt free laziness: reclining on the sofa, drinking tea and reading (or sleeping) all day long - and all on doctor's orders!

And it extended into the next day too, with my employers telling me to stay home and rest.

So I did.

* * * *

Lots of thoughts milled around my head - some of it revolving around the fact that I have always disliked the snow...

I'm not sure whether I have told you before but the place where we live is called Kaiserswerth.  It is an ancient settlement dating back to at least the 7th Century, when the English missionary Swidbert (known in German as Suitbertus) was given Kaiserswerth and asked to set up a small monastery there.

All sorts of things have happened since that time: Friedrich Barbarossa built a huge fortress here, the town was invaded at various times by the Spanish, the Hessians, the Brandenburgers, the Dutch and the French.  Napoleon was here.  So was Florence Nightingale.  American soldiers were here too, towards the end of WWII.  King Heinrich IV was kidnapped from Kaiserswerth by the archbishop of Koeln during a palace power struggle in the Middle Ages; and the town was given control of the lucrative collection of tolls on the Rhein.

And during all that time Kaiserswerth was an island.  At its peak it looked liked this:

(This photograph comes from the Kaiserswerther Brudershaft (www.kaiserswerther-bruderschaft.de). and I have seen the original painting displayed within the shoeshop in the High Street.)

Nowadays, Kaiserswerth looks like this.  You can see the now-ruined Barbarossa's fortress in the foreground on the river bank (It was blown up by the Spanish in 1702, or thereabouts): 

Both of these photographs comes from this website: http://www.bilderbuch-duesseldorf.de/Fotos/kaiserswerth

Kaiserwerth is no longer an island because (I am told) the Rhein silted up.  I don't know when this happened but in this photograph, the green belt that surrounds the town is the old river bed.  It goes all the way around and to enter Kaiserswerth, you cross a bridge that is near to the tall building on the right of the photo although now all that is below it is the town ditch which has been made into a park. 

Kaiserswerth is only about 28m above sea level.  The land is very flat which is ideal for bike riding.  

It is also ideal for flooding.

The water table is close to the surface and it doesn't taken much for it to cause problems.  Then we get this:

(http://kaiserswerth-aktuell.de/2011/01/rhein-hochwasser-duesseldorf)

The Rhein is on the left of the fencing.  The path along the town walls is (submerged) to the right.

And so all this snow falling, then melting and then being followed by more snow, is not helping matters.  On Saturday I went down to the Rhein to take a look:

It is getting higher - and faster too.  Those branches are the tops of the trees that border the small stony beaches that are visible in summer.  The pole in the top right photograph indicates where cars usually drive to board the ferry to the other side of the river...

The fields were the farmer keeps his horses in the summer, and where a few weeks earlier the children were whizzing about on their sleds, is now a large lake:

Our apartment building is at the back of old Kaiserswerth, where the town walls used to be.  It overlooks the old river bed.  Interestingly, water is appearing there too as the ground water rises from beneath the surface:

And directly opposite us, albeit 'down in the ditch' the water has suddenly appeared so that over the space of the week it has changed from a snowy place to walk the dog, to a series of serpentine ponds:

As long as it remains like this and doesn't get much higher and cause the town flood barriers to be set up, we will continue to find it all rather exciting. . .

And so, as the water rises, we seek comfort in simple things:

 Flowers: harbingers of Spring and the return of the sun.

And of course cups of tea . . . and home-made Eccles cakes (you just can't have enough of them at this time of year).

And cherry tart: 

(made by me!)