This line from a poem I learned as a child sums up the very best of what the hut meant to us. Time hangs heavy in the mountains and there is much to delight the soul. We watched butterflies, including graceful swallowtails, saw a wild salamander, and lots of animal tracks....including a paw print the size of a saucer (with claws) We enjoyed walks through deciduous and coniferous forests all interspersed with meadows and glades. It is so quiet that it is noisy with individual sounds: the screeching of jays, the bells of sheep, donkeys and a cow, crickets and a dog barking. Doubtless the hut would not be for everyone: it is remote, and there is no running water: but these privations add to the charm. Supper stewed over a camp fire with a host of stars overhead, watched over by the neighbour's dog, ewes' milk and cheese from the neighbouring shepherds, a snuggly bed in total dark and only natural noises. Werner gave us great advice, was reassuring, but appropriately left us to it.