Martin Matanovic

October 4, 2026

Letters from Somewhere No.135

A Village in Rheinland-Pfalz (Germany)

The sky is clear and strewn with stars, and I can even see the Milky Way. The air is warm, and a light, gentle breeze is blowing. It is quiet, and not a soul is to be seen on the streets. I put my iPhone into the small black belt bag and strap it around me. I am dressed as if I were going on a hike, but I only want to take a walk across the fields and look at the stars in the sky.

The village ends where the light stops. The transition into darkness is abrupt: one step, and I leave the paved road lying in the warm glow of a streetlamp and step onto the path of white pebbles, completely wrapped in night. Immediately I see it, clearer than I have in a long time: the Milky Way. The path leads me right underneath it, as if it wanted to show me the way itself.

Again and again I stop, lift my gaze, marvel and enjoy. I keep walking until the path bends slightly to the left and I leave the Milky Way behind me. Ahead of me there is only darkness, in two layers. The lower one is deep black and swallows all light like a black hole. Above it lies a dark gray in which only the silhouette of the trees of the forest behind stands out.

I can't claim that I notice a movement or that a sound draws my attention. I only recognize it after I have walked on and raised my head to the sky once more. Right then my eyes catch on the horizon, on the line where the two darknesses part. And there I make out figures that are moving, but I can't tell what kind of creatures they are.

My first thought is: they must be cows. But I dismiss that at once, because who lets their cows loose in the middle of the night in a field where otherwise only wheat and barley grow? My next thought is that they could be deer. A few days ago we came across deer in the forest, a group of six or seven animals. At this thought my heart pounds with joy.

But then I hear the footsteps of several animals running from the edge of the field toward the group. And then I see a large herd of ten or more animals, though I can't say exactly. Now nervousness grips me, and I reach into my bag for my iPhone to turn on the light. The moment my thumb touches the screen and it lights up, I hear a grunt and then a loud thundering of hooves. Suddenly they are running.

It startles me so much that I freeze. I feel nothing anymore, as if I had turned into a block of ice. Adrenaline shoots through my body, and fear seizes me. At that moment I don't know whether they are running away from me or toward me. I feel trapped, enveloped by the darkness, with no sight, no orientation and no idea what is happening.

Nothing happens. The thundering fades, and the silence of the night takes the helm. As I calm down, it dawns on me what kind of animals they are: wild boars. They ran away from me when they noticed the light. And then a deep relief washes over me, and I think: what luck that they didn't run in my direction.

About Martin Matanovic

I worked, traveled and lived in different places in Europe and wrote about it in this newsletter for the most part of this series. Now I am settled, but still use this place to make sense of things in my life.