" It was already late afternoon when Junker Hinrich rapidly descended the heathland path; but the more clearly the distant turreted lodge loomed up before him the slower became his pace. Its upper storey rose above the high wall that surrounded its courtyard, a wall built as protection against roaming beasts of prey, and its red gateway gleamed a long way off in the autumn sun. The heathland blooms had faded, but in their place the leaves of the oaks surrounding the building had already produced their bright colours. An intense silence reigned; the branches that stretched over the roof lay motionless on its dark brown pantiles. "

― Theodor Storm , Zur Chronik Von Grieshuus