An alternative walk III

The Canner wood, above Chateau Neercanne, is an old leftover of a forest that once covered the slopes and top of Mount Canne, before most of the surface was turned into agriculture. It is a left-alone-area, and even this early in the year (beginning of March) it is blooming with wild flowers. The steep paths are some practice for your knees, while climbing or descending. It are those slopes, that are too steep, which were not interesting for farmland, that it is saved so nicely. No economical value: then leave as is!

And that is shown: fallen trees all over, but which gives the area a paintable structure, a romantic mood, which can also be at the dark side after the evening falls. It is easy to imagine the old Buck-riders here; those bands of robbers who raided the surrounding farms and villages, leaving the people in fear, and believing that they were robbed by the devil himself.

There are still no leaves at the trees, which will change in a short while, and this gives an open atmosphere; the blue sky on top, that will color green in a month or so. The trails covered in green already; moss, grass and little weeds. It is still Winter officially, but this part of Europe doesn’t seem to know what that is anymore; a long stretched Spring, some cold nights, but barely frost.

The paths on the slope are cut out by rainfall and generations of men crossing from one valley to another, as all valleys are situated parallel here: the cut-outs of rivers; small and mighty, like the Jeker and the Meuse. They did the digging what forces us to climb and descend now. They shaped the hills, and therefore the landscape.

At places the marl rock shows through the vegetation; that is where these hills look like real mountains; but the highest summit in this area is just over 170 meters... But still; if one has to climb it, it can be quite impressive...

Youngsters use the wood as their playground; signs everywhere, like ropes hanging down from fallen trees, used as a bridge over a shallow canyon, or an instrument to play Tarzan in the African jungle of Dutch South Limburg; shouting! And that is what most of the visitors do: speaking too loud, why no-one sees or hears any animals that live here. The surface too small, and yet I saw many tracks of hares, foxes and deer. In the sky circles an eagle, looking for prey that is also shouted away from him. He has to be hungry because men cannot keep their mouth shut; not even in nature, as long as they can be reached over their portables. Why men; there are definitely too many of us if nature can’t be quite and live their own life anymore...

To be continued...