Apples By The River

"I would love to live

like the river flows,

carried by the surprise,

of it's own unfolding.

John O'Donohue

It was an autumn day, very much like this one.  The year was 1996. I was in my early 30's and found myself alone and walking along a trail called Wander Weg, in Rheinfelden, Switzerland.

My husband worked for a large avionics company here in the states, and was sent there to help oversee the engineering of a project, at Jet Aviation, in the big city of Basel. We were sent there on this job assignment for one year. 

This is the train we would take from into Basel from where we lived in the country side.

And, while my husband was working in Basel, I was in at our apartment in the beautiful rural area of Rheinfelden, where I had lots of free time to sight see, and take the trains to other large cities such as Zurich.  But, most days I could be found somewhere in the village or along the trails.  

I looked up current information about the village and today it says it has a population of 13,000 and there are new houses and apartments everywhere.  But when I was there 30 years ago, it had a very different landscape.  I found it to be slow and idyllic, clean, orderly and dependable, the perfect place for a good rest.  It was everything I had hoped it would be and so much more.

I needed this trip more than I had ever really needed anything.  Years of working at a hard physically demanding job and caregiving for my mother who didn't have very much longer to live, along with having to undergo a major surgery that I was not yet healed from... had taken their toll.  And although I was still so young, I felt utterly depleted.  

I needed quiet, rest, time to heal and regain my strength back.  When they told my husband about the trip, I tearfully assumed that I would not be able to go.  Thankfully, the family and my best friends, all pulled together, so that I was able to go and trust it was all going to be okay without me.  

I knelt by Mom's chair and she patted my hand and said "You need to go honey, because I need an adventure.  You write me every week and tell Mama all about it and then I will be there too.  If you don't go, how will I ever get to see it!"

I didn't know when I left if I would see my Mom alive again.  I promised that I would write her twice every week and she promised me that she would hold on until I got back.  We both kept our promises. 

She held on by sheer force of will I think, passing away 2 months after I returned. She wanted to teach me one of her last lessons.  That, I could do something for myself without a tragedy always occurring. 

It was literally one of the first real leaps of faith I think I had ever taken up to that time.  Three weeks later my husband and I were stepping off the plane and into our new life.

We were surprised to find our apartment that the company provided for us was beautiful and in a new complex, sitting a mere 40ft. or so from the Rhine River.  It was about a 20 minute walk from there to the picturesque, little village of Rheinfelden. 

Among my many surprises, was the size of the refrigerator which was quite a bit smaller compared to what I was used to.  The size I was soon to learn was perfect, as it fit into the Swiss village lifestyle of shopping more than just once a week.  

I quickly adopted the custom of walking to the village every other day or so from our apartment, with a little pull cart, to get our groceries.  

The food was amazing, the fruits and vegetables were naturally ripe and full of flavor.  There was every kind of fresh bread and a multitude of cheeses I had never heard of.  Not to mention the Swiss chocolate! It is unusually creamy and delicious.  

I ate heartedly that year and I had chocolate every day.  I also didn't gain an ounce of weight because of the quality of the food, the portion sizes and all the walking. I watched closely and tried to imitate the lifestyles of my Swiss neighbors.  

Tony and I were determined at the onset of our trip not to live an "American" life in Switzerland, but to embrace the Swiss way of life.  We hung our comforter on the balcony every Monday like everyone else in the village, we learned how to meticulously recycle and didn't complain when the electricity went off for two hours every day.   Because of this we made many long lasting friendships, and people everywhere were kind in their attempts to help us.

Switzerland also has a series of trails known as the Wander Weg, which travel from the river into the Alps.  They were beautiful, safe and very well maintained.

From Rheinfelden, Wander Weg meandered, following the Rhine river for miles and miles.   The trail would often branch out and weave its way through deep dense forests. 

Walking along, I would suddenly come out of the forest and the vista would change and open up, into ripe corn fields, cow pastures, nearby villages and homes.  The path would then, turn once again toward the river.  I never had to fear being lost, as the sound of the river rushing past was always in the background leading me back.

Sometimes the river ran high and rushed past wildly over white boulders and other days it was low, languid and peaceful.  Because, I was so new to the area and I had not yet come to know or understand the river's ways and moods, so it was all a delightful mystery that I embraced each day with an open heart.  

I think that is what made the trip so incredibly restful.  No itineraries, no schedules.  No expectations.  And, more importantly no computers, no smart phones, no texting, no Map Quest, no Google.  I discovered the things I needed to know organically, as I needed to know them.  I wonder if that kind of peace can even be experienced today?

For instance, at that time they didn't sell brown sugar as we know it in America. It was not to be had anywhere.  But I didn't know that.  I only found it out after standing in the sugar aisle of several grocery stores, in various cities, flipping through the pages of my little pocket German to English translation book, which I carried in my bag at all times.  And after buying every kind of sugar that was sold. :). 

To the Swiss and I asked many, "brown sugar" is what we know as raw sugar.  They did not typically use it in their cooking and didn't have a husband who was in dire need of Tollhouse cookies. I wrote home to some friends about my funny little "brown sugar" experience.  A couple of weeks later, there were numerous shipments of brown  sugar making their way to me from across the Atlantic.

Walking along one day, I came to a place, some miles from my apartment, where the path climbed high above the river and I looked down the incline and saw the most wondrous thing.  An apple tree, clinging to the steep side of the river, its roots protruding up through the dirt and holding tight to the soil with thick fingers.

The small tree was loaded with red apples.  The branches bent under the weight and dipped so far down, the river water, washed through the heavy branches, breaking off an apple now and then.  Suddenly free, the ripe apples happily bobbed down the river one by one and out of sight. 

How I longed to taste one of those apples!  But it was too steep.  I knew if I tried to lower myself down alone, there was a real chance I could fall into the river.

I sat there and watched the tree and pondered.  Dangling my legs over the ledge, thinking of one invention after another, I might make that would enable me to pick and taste one of those wild, secret apples.  

I wondered how it got there?  Perhaps some years earlier some hiker had tossed an apple core over the edge and it landed in that precarious spot and miraculously decided to grow and grow strong.

Then the whimsical thought occurred to me, "Maybe wild, secret apples don't want to be picked.  Maybe they are meant to just colorfully bob and twirl down the river for our surprise and pleasure, reminding us: 

"Sometimes in life we too, must let go, be joyful for joy's sake and see where the waters take us.  That little tree taught me one of life's most important lessons.  Switzerland will always live as a bright star in my heart.  It brought me back to life, health and joy.

Did  you have a place that lives in your heart? 

Were you ever surprised by a moment of wonder?  

I would love to hear your story.

Delisa