Every Wednesday morning, seven of us serving the life sentence of Parkinson’s, tear through Mering Heath, in the south of Germany. Brushing against coarse grass and heather, stabbing the ground with our walking sticks, thrusting ourselves forward, we fill our lungs with the heather-scented air.

During today’s cooling-down session – swinging upper body left and right, extended arms loosely following, slowly catching our breath – the leader of our group relates the history of the place. In the 1700s, a building housing the Court of Justice stood exactly here by the Galgenbach, the Gallows stream. It was here that executions ordered by the Court were carried out. Crowds gathered, watched and cheered with the tightening of each noose, with each trap door opening. They watched the 15 minute-dance of the hanged, and then walked home.

hangman’s elm
the ancient tree creaks
and groans
.
In Blithe Spirit 35. 2 p. 70