That is what we called the cornfields after the harvest. As children, we liked to walk barefoot through tall grass fields. Whether nettle or thistle – everything was bearable and the burning pain quickly forgotten.
However, when we came to a stubble field and wanted to cross it, the alarm bells rang. The first steps were still a test of courage. It pricked unpleasantly on the sole of the foot. The previously loud laughter quickly changed into a stammered "Ouch". So, put the shoes back on and keep walking. Now it crunched under the shoes when the upright stalks broke with every step. That was fun again.
Just like this sound, I still remember the intense smell of straw and hay to this day. We had friends who had a farm at home. We were often allowed to romp in the straw bales. The smell and contact with hay was and is for me a feeling of groundedness, which many of our children today can no longer experience. A pity!That is what we called the cornfields after the harvest. As children, we liked to walk barefoot through tall grass fields. Whether nettle or thistle – everything was bearable and the burning pain quickly forgotten.
However, when we came to a stubble field and wanted to cross it, the alarm bells rang. The first steps were still a test of courage. It pricked unpleasantly on the sole of the foot. The previously loud laughter quickly changed into a stammered "Ouch". So, put the shoes back on and keep walking. Now it crunched under the shoes when the upright stalks broke with every step. That was fun again.
Just like this sound, I still remember the intense smell of straw and hay to this day. We had friends who had a farm at home. We were often allowed to romp in the straw bales. The smell and contact with hay was and is for me a feeling of groundedness, which many of our children today can no longer experience. A pity!So nannten wir die Kornfelder nach der Ernte. Als Kind liefen wir gerne barfuß durch hohe Grasfelder. Ob Brensessel oder Diestel – alles war zu ertragen und der brennende Schmerz schnell wieder vergessen.
Kamen wir jedoch an ein Stoppelfeld und wollten es überqueren, so klingelten die Alarmglocken. Die ersten Schritte waren noch eine Mutprobe. Es pikste unangenehm an der Fußsohle. Das vormals laute Lachen änderte sich schnell in ein „Aua“-Gestammel. Also, Schuhe wieder anziehen und weiter laufen. Jetzt knirschte es unter den Schuhen, wenn die aufrecht stehenden Halme bei jedem Schritt brachen. Das machte dann wieder Spaß.
Genauso wie dieses Geräusch habe ich bis heute immer noch den intensiven Duft von Stroh und Heu in Erinnerung. Wir hatten Freunde, die zu Hause einen Bauernhof hatten. Wir haben öfters in den Strohballen toben dürfen. Der Geruch und der Kontakt mit Heu war und ist für mich ein Gefühl von Bodenständigkeit, was viele unserer Kinder heute nicht mehr erleben können. Schade !
"Stubble fields""Stubble fields"„Stoppelfelder“
That is what we called the cornfields after the harvest. As children, we liked to walk barefoot through tall grass fields. Whether nettle or thistle – everything was bearable and the burning pain quickly forgotten.However, when we came to a stubble field and wanted to cross it, the alarm bells rang. The first steps were still a test of courage. It pricked unpleasantly on the sole of the foot. The previously loud laughter quickly changed into a stammered "Ouch". So, put the shoes back on and keep walking. Now it crunched under the shoes when the upright stalks broke with every step. That was fun again.
Just like this sound, I still remember the intense smell of straw and hay to this day. We had friends who had a farm at home. We were often allowed to romp in the straw bales. The smell and contact with hay was and is for me a feeling of groundedness, which many of our children today can no longer experience. A pity!That is what we called the cornfields after the harvest. As children, we liked to walk barefoot through tall grass fields. Whether nettle or thistle – everything was bearable and the burning pain quickly forgotten.
However, when we came to a stubble field and wanted to cross it, the alarm bells rang. The first steps were still a test of courage. It pricked unpleasantly on the sole of the foot. The previously loud laughter quickly changed into a stammered "Ouch". So, put the shoes back on and keep walking. Now it crunched under the shoes when the upright stalks broke with every step. That was fun again.
Just like this sound, I still remember the intense smell of straw and hay to this day. We had friends who had a farm at home. We were often allowed to romp in the straw bales. The smell and contact with hay was and is for me a feeling of groundedness, which many of our children today can no longer experience. A pity!So nannten wir die Kornfelder nach der Ernte. Als Kind liefen wir gerne barfuß durch hohe Grasfelder. Ob Brensessel oder Diestel – alles war zu ertragen und der brennende Schmerz schnell wieder vergessen.
Kamen wir jedoch an ein Stoppelfeld und wollten es überqueren, so klingelten die Alarmglocken. Die ersten Schritte waren noch eine Mutprobe. Es pikste unangenehm an der Fußsohle. Das vormals laute Lachen änderte sich schnell in ein „Aua“-Gestammel. Also, Schuhe wieder anziehen und weiter laufen. Jetzt knirschte es unter den Schuhen, wenn die aufrecht stehenden Halme bei jedem Schritt brachen. Das machte dann wieder Spaß.
Genauso wie dieses Geräusch habe ich bis heute immer noch den intensiven Duft von Stroh und Heu in Erinnerung. Wir hatten Freunde, die zu Hause einen Bauernhof hatten. Wir haben öfters in den Strohballen toben dürfen. Der Geruch und der Kontakt mit Heu war und ist für mich ein Gefühl von Bodenständigkeit, was viele unserer Kinder heute nicht mehr erleben können. Schade !