Nature in view

A foray through the ancient greenery of the Waldviertel

Forest warden Gerhard Blabensteiner knows all the mystical places and their secrets in the green fir.

(Bild: Moser Gabriele)

Ecologically particularly valuable, mysterious biotopes grow between mighty tree trunks in the north of the country - a quiet foray across soft moss cushions, past lichens and mystical tree sponges

Whether the poet (see quote below) ever roamed the far north of the vast country is shrouded in the mists of unwritten history, but the poem certainly applies to the Waldviertel.

"There grows an unparalleled primeval forest and sprawls wildly and wonderfully in the pine darkness year after year"

Schriftsteller Siegfried von Vegesack im 20. Jahrhundert

Every region has its own color
It's not a loud, flaming red like the Wachau in autumn, nor a dazzling white like the wintry heights of the Rax. No, the Waldviertel is green - it is a deep, ancient green that survives even the harshest northern winds. It is the green of mosses, lichens and tree sponges that bridge the centuries like silent environmental chroniclers.

Natural remedies for lung ailments
"If you want to read the history of the forest, you have to pay attention to the smallest details," says Gerhard Blabensteiner, forest warden and forest owner from Schönbach in the Zwettl district, as his fingertips glide gently over the damp moss cushion of a fallen giant tree. Here, in the hidden microcosm of the forest, species reign that are older than the trees on which they grow. There is, for example, the common moss (Polytrichum commune), which covers the ground in dense, emerald-green carpets and retains a hint of spring here in the far north of the vast country, even in the coldest February. Or the delicate Iceland moss (Cetraria islandica), which is actually a lichen and was once valued by healers as a natural remedy for lung ailments. The bearded lichen (Usnea) hangs high in the crowns of the old spruce and beech trees, as if the centuries themselves had become entangled there. "When you see these lichens, you know that the air is pure," murmurs Blabensteiner - a silent note against transience and a sign that there really are still untouched places.

The invisible connects everything
And then there are the tree fungi - shaped like wooden shells, persistent and mysterious. The tinder fungus (Fomes fomentarius), once used by humans to make fire, clings to dead trunks, while the bright yellow sulphur spore (Laetiporus sulphureus) grows on old oaks, like a silent sunlight in the shade of the forest. "It's not the giant trees that keep the forest alive," says Blabensteiner, looking down at the mossy ground. "It's the small, the invisible that connects everything." And so the ancient green of the Waldviertel remains, silent and enduring - a green legacy that tells of time itself.

Appeal to all forest visitors
Blabensteiner, active chairman of the Association for the Promotion of the Forest, appeals all the more fervently to all hikers: "Walk gently over the soft cushions and - above all - don't carelessly tear out the precious greenery for the Easter nests!"