Our Isar.
The Isar is more to me than just a beautiful place — it is a valuable habitat that I experience almost every day. Along its course, countless animal species live here: kingfishers hunt in the clear water, beavers shape their environment with impressive persistence, and in the neighbouring riparian forests, with a bit of luck, you can even spot red deer. This diversity is no coincidence — it is the result of a delicate balance that can be disturbed very quickly. The Isar does not thrive on its beauty alone — it needs protection, consideration, and responsible behaviour if we want to preserve this habitat for the long term.
Sometimes I simply stand still in the water, my feet numb from the cold, my gaze fixed on the distance. And it is in moments like these that it happens. Silent as a thought, he glides towards me — the grey heron. No rustle, no shadow, just suddenly there. He lands a few metres in front of me, completely calm, entirely in his own world. I am just another stone in the water. He doesn’t see me — or he ignores me. And I hold my breath.
He stands motionless, long legs in the river, neck taut, eyes focused. I watch him without moving. A scene like a painting — not spectacular, but perfect. This closeness feels like a gift: not something you can plan, not something you can recreate. It is exactly this kind of encounter that stays with you.
