Summer at the New Swan Stone

“Those are the Alps,” I heard my grandmother say. “And down there you can see the Swan Lake,” she continued. “That is the Neuschwanstein castle, the one that inspired Walt Disney.” I followed her finger pointing at the magnificent romantic medieval structure covered in white stone.

Slowly, she redirected her finger to a bunch of trees.

“But that is where the magic happens.”

Said to be so immersed in fairy tales that he was unable to reign, King Ludwig II of Bavaria was as iconic as enigmatic.

If you stand at a certain point in the gardens of Hohenschwangau castle, where the king grew up, you will be able to appreciate his best creation: the Neuschwanstein- new swan stone in German.

My grandmother has always been fascinated by these surroundings, their history, and the way their colors bloom in the warmest season.

“The rest of the year, those trees are covered with fog. Behind them, there is a waterfall that opens for the swans to swim in when the summer is over. These are magical creatures. At the beginning of June, they come out again to visit us and get flowers. The process repeats itself every year since centuries.”

“One of those swans tried to bite me earlier. They are not magical, they are evil.” I licked my ice cream with skeptical eyes. “And how come no humans have ever been on the other side of the waterfall? Mom never told me about this.”

My grandmother giggled. “Those creatures are extremely cautious. Why do you think that King Ludwig decided to build a castle here? Why are that castle and the lake named after swans?”

“I think-” I started before being interrupted by my mother saying we were leaving.

After walking down, I saw my grandmother laying a flower at the edge of Swan Lake.

I continued my way, but curiosity made me look back once more.

And there it was: a swan took the flower and nodded toward us.

Maybe the season did bring some magic. Maybe my grandmother’s and Ludwig’s fairy tales were not tales after all.