There are places where the world suddenly takes a step back – and makes room for silence. The Bitschweil reservoir is such a place. Not a lake in the true sense of the word, but more of a tranquil thought made of concrete and water, cast between mountain and meadow, high above Tschagguns. You come up via the Aquawäg or the Aquastiege, panting, silent, looking – and then suddenly you're standing there, as if someone had invented the word "peace" and inserted it there.
The water lies smooth as glass, shimmering green and blue, as if the sky had doubled in size overnight. You can see into it, but not through it – and understand: depth doesn't always have to do with darkness.
Memories linger all around: of alpine childhoods, of inn visits with bowls of soup and raspberry juice, of Sundays with hiking boots that were too tight and views that were too far away. Very close by is the Bitschweil Inn, which looks as if it's been waiting forever for someone to rest.
The reservoir itself? A technical centerpiece, sure. But those who only see pipes and cables are missing the essence. Because here, the useful meets the beautiful, the functional meets the random: dragonflies flutter over the water, the mountains reflect in it like old friends, and somewhere a bird calls out, as if to say: "Look closely. Not every reservoir is full of water. Some fill with vision."