Alexander Kobler

La Vida

La Vida | Hammer Tackle
I'm getting less and less comfortable with social media. I'm not at all interested in what Hinz and Kunz do all day and what they spread on the Internet - but I'm still attracted to it. TV and radio are also extremely frustrating for me. Almost exclusively bad news, tons of advertising and boring films. So why do I even turn on the telly? I feel increasingly isolated from others and am not getting any relief from communicating with my cell phone or computer. Plus, four walls quickly become a prison for me. Still, I don't socialize. Actually, I don't want to have a place in this society anymore. Political events are frightening; there are seemingly wars, terrorism, increasing hostilities between countries and trade disputes everywhere. There are more and more politicians who are really bananas. The paperwork surrounding daily life is becoming more and more confusing and the bills for this and that are becoming more and more numerous. Cars everywhere, traffic jams, thundering airplanes, nuclear power plants, more and more garbage and pollution, an extremely shrinking forest area, 70% fewer insects, a sharp decline in biodiversity in general, but 1000% more migrants. I'm over 40, I haven't really achieved anything in life yet, no big house, big car, no children or a pretty wife by my side and certainly no yacht, helicopter or millions in the account. On the contrary, my car is almost 20 years old, has almost 300,000 kilometers on the clock and consumes 13 liters of diesel at less than 120 kilometers per hour. I've reached my mid-life crisis, I hardly ever meet people away from the water and the only option I have left to get to know someone again at some point is the frustration app Tinder. So every now and then I boost my ego on social media, share pretty photos with nice texts to get a few affectionate likes and comments. Yes, things are going downhill for me, my testosterone is becoming increasingly scarce and my motivation to impress anyone with some super performance is also decreasing. My hair is thinning, the first gray stubble is starting to appear on my beard and in the morning I look as if I had been drinking all night long. CUT The steaming water turns bright orange. Slowly and almost imperceptibly, cold and delicate ground frost give way to a wonderful sunny day at the end of January. A robin flutters up and looks through the tent entrance. Curious and without wanting anything, it watches me eat breakfast. It looks like who moved there. The call of cranes announces a migration almost directly over my tent. I love these trumpet-like sounds. In the morning, just before the sun shines through the fog, they move up to the pastured hills about a kilometer west of me and then fly back noisily in the evening. Probably to the small lake, only separated from the large reservoir by a wall, about five kilometers from my place, where it is teeming with cranes. I can't help it, I scurry from tree to tree again with the camera and the telephoto lens so that they can't see me and continue to fly towards me unmolested. But at the last moment they always discover me and turn away with a loud croak. My dog ​​Chico has been hunting rabbits for a long time now and is waiting impatiently until I finally join him. Alright, let's go! It's another perfect morning. As soon as I arrived I felt that a part of me was at home here. Not a single traffic light, no speed measurements, just small villages. Endless dirt roads over old land always inspire new dreams. The lake of a thousand peaks and bays, where there is so much to discover. Endless places where you would like to fish, endless opportunities to catch your dream fish. The dream of freedom, untamed nature and the opportunity to be completely alone and to merge completely with your surroundings. In some places you can spend weeks in winter without seeing anyone. Sheep, rabbits, foxes and wild boars are the only visitors. Eagles soar high into the sky, kites and falcons circle over the hills, vultures fly over the landscape in search of dead animals. Otters swim along the edges of the shore and snack on some crabs, while cormorants dive for small fish. And again and again you are surprised by an animal that you have never seen before. It was the right decision to stay on this spot a little longer. The blood moon really activated the carp. More and more people sought out the fed areas. Almost every day I caught two or three fish, all in their most beautiful winter dress. They had a lot of steam. And Chico actually caught another rabbit. I think he had ambushed the cub very early in the morning at the burrow, which he had been watching for days. It happened when I was playing a fish in the boat at dusk. When I returned I only saw the hind legs hanging out of his mouth before he quickly swallowed it. He really didn't leave any of it left and ate it with fur and paws, head and teeth. We just felt really comfortable and didn't want to be anywhere else in the world during those days. We were completely in the moment - at home by the water - living off our supplies and becoming increasingly wild. Nature gave us gifts. It was the time of the meadow mushrooms that sprouted in the pastures with the first rains of the year, when the still yellow grass begins to give way to new freshness. Very much our time, when our gut feeling was right and we sunk deeply into ourselves and instinctively only thought about hunting. This phase was the beginning of a series of large fish. A dream also came true. It was a time that couldn't have been more satisfying. We were free.

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