During a trip to Germany’s highest mountain, the Zugspitze, my friends and I experienced something I will never forget.
We arrived on a cloudy Friday afternoon at our hotel and we decided to take the two hours hike around the Eibsee followed by a nice, relaxing picnic with a view of the lake.
The Eibsee lays directly at the foot of the mountain and contrasts it with its deep, still, clear, sometimes turquoise water.
Around 8 p.m. we found a small bay by the lake and were sitting on the ground eating fresh bread with cheese and grapes, drinking wine, having nice conversations while the evening was letting down its curtains on us.
As soon as the darkness covered the landscape, it suddenly felt as if the time had stopped. At that moment I felt strangely frozen as if I wanted to search for light but my feet grew roots in the soil and wouldn’t let me move. It was like in those dreams when you find yourself in danger and no matter how hard you struggle, you just cannot remove yourself from the situation. I felt that everybody else was feeling the same way. We were collectively scared of all the silence and motionlessness that surrounded us.
The only thing we could grasp was each other’s presence even if it was too dark to see each other.
Until one of us found her voice and said what we were all afraid to say: “It is all so silent that it’s creepy. In the movies, this is when something bad happens.”