Bavarian Forest - Deep, Dark and Enchanted - Go Wild

Autumn lies over the Bavarian Forest National Park. The low-lying sun lends the park a particular magic. No bird, not a sound echoes through the forests. Only the falling leaves interrupt the mysterious silence. The smell of the forest has changed. It has become intense and heavy. But this golden autumn also marks the beginning of a difficult time. For many animals it will be harder to find food. Even the lynx finds it harder to hunt for food in the snow. Over a dozen of these elegant cats are wandering through this border to the Czech Republic again. They were gone from the Bavarian Forest for over 150 years and sightings are still rare. It has had too many bad experiences. Others are little impressed by the change in season, like the European otter. The water is its kingdom. The otter's physical characteristics are perfectly adapted to a life in water. The thick, water-resistant fur boasts 50,000 hairs on every square centimetre of its body. It can seal its eyes and ears, and its large lung capacity allows it to stay underwater for up to seven minutes. The otter is a playful, yet solitary mammal. The national park is only a part of the otter's original habitat. It used to live in the abundant waterways of streams and rivers. But human activity, hunting and water pollution forced the otter out. When it had to resort to helping itself from fishing ponds, it was almost wiped out. An animal that had been indigenous to Bavaria for centuries. Autumn, the time of the mushroom. Their diversity and abundance is hard to grasp. A few species, like this fungus beetle, can finally afford to be picky. It depends on a very specific mushroom that only grows on wood at a particular point of decay. These conditions are rare and fleeting. Mushrooms are a microcosm unto themselves. Being an able climber is an advantage. But only clean feet have enough traction, and regular preening is vital. It's the ceremonial garb in which the forest bids the year farewell. A feast for the senses. Here, along the highland border, autumn draws in three weeks earlier than in the lowlands of the Danube. It's probably the last time this year that the common lizards will be able to sun themselves on the fallen tree trunks. They're only a few weeks old and still quite small. Even the common viper enjoys the sun's warm rays. The young lizards are too small a meal for the snake. No need for alarm or unnecessary movement. Lying flat on their stomachs, the lizards can soak up the heat stored in the wood. The roaring stags can be heard for kilometers through the young forest. This bizarre setting brings with it the end of the year. The dominant stag proudly presents its mighty antlers, showing off its strength. The young stag needs to come up with a strategy. He's caught the scent of a doe, chases her and hopes this will give him a chance of action. But the doe shows no interest and disappears. He only gives up the chase once she's well out of reach. Eh, how many of these winters has he already gone through? His face and fur show the signs of a long life of survival. In good conditions, the lynx can live for up to 15 years. But here, where even the water is frozen, things are a little different. The old lynx knows that there is no point in chasing a deer in deep snow. He stands no chance against the 350 kilo weight of a fully grown male. Only the sick and the young are realistic prey. Red deer know they have nothing to fear from the lynx. Undeterred, they carry on their power struggles in the deep snow. In the mist of the white wilderness, veins of water and ice, frost forces them to reduce their activity and spend several days in their hold. But sleep is far from the young otter's mind. This new material can even be made into shapes. To frolic so carelessly is not without its dangers. The lynx is not prowling through the forest for fun, but out of hunger. The lynx has keen senses and if something draws as much attention to itself like the otter, it can only have itself to blame. Quick escape for the otter, the lynx has to find his luck elsewhere. No mean feat in a forest covered in deep snow. In spite of its broad paws, every step consumes a lot of energy in the cold. Only a few meters further, a natural wonder, as delicate as they are beautiful. Each a unique specimen, precious for a moment. Perhaps it was not only the sight of a winter wonderland that moved the pine marten to leave its den, but also hunger. The kingdom of the skilled climber is usually up in the treetops, but now it's easier to find something down here than up there in the icy twigs of the treetops. If only it weren't for the unusual sounds. The hunt for food continues, but the deer can't shake its itch. It's all a little too much for the pine marten. In the late winter months of February and March, the male lynx begins to roam far and wide. The lynx is a solitary creature, but it is now on the hunt for a female. Mating season has begun. As hopeless as it may seem to stumble across each other in the endless forest, the female lends a helping hand. She leaves a trail with her urine that puts the male on the right track. When the two find each other, he bites into the fur at the nape of her neck. Only a few minutes and it's all over. During heat, the female only mates with one male. The young will be born in two months. Food, a blessing after the long hard winter. Slowly the ice begins to thaw. The first days of spring also sees the common toads emerging from their winter habitat. From every corner, they head to their spawning waters. There are usually more males and they try to get hold of the females from behind. Unfortunately, there are many rivals. The lucky chosen female is defended by any means, but once it gets too much, flight. Is the only option. The last snow patches are melting. Soon fresh luscious green will shoot from the ground. An abundant tapestry. But the hazel grass has already had its fill. Its attention is fixed on something else. A hen. Proudly, he rises into position. But the hen is far more interested in the fresh green grass. He's not giving up and follows her step for step. And again, tries to impress her. And again, his advances go unnoticed. She must surely be full soon. Spring is even slowly reaching the highlands. The first flowers are showing off their color. Then, from almost one day to the next, nature boasts. Dead trees do not mean a dead forest. Rowan trees are not open to the wild. Only one of the first to grow in the dead wood areas. But also the first to show their tender green in the vibrant spring forest. There are only a few open rock faces in the national park. These rare spots are inhabited by peregrines. They need high protected spots to breed. The national park has been home to three to four peregrine pairs that raise their young here for only a few years. The chicks are just over two weeks old. Peregrines breed early in the year. They lay their eggs in late winter between March and April. Their main prey is other birds. Even in the national park, they mainly live off a diet of pigeons. But the young only get a bite once it's been plucked clean. In the national park, the peregrine falcons have no fear of human intervention. But the harsh climate and sparsely protected nests from other predators mean many young don't survive. The charters of survival naturally rise if the nest is less exposed. One bird that makes the most of all the nooks and crannies in the forest is the small and bustling wren. Their nests sometimes lie well hidden in roots and at other times hang as here under the lofty heights of a fallen tree trunk. The young are always well protected. Five little beaks waiting to be fed. There's no time for rest. The ural owl has set its sights on something. A mouse. But it doesn't eat itself. It must have young to feed. For a long time, the ural owl was the most mysterious inhabitant of the highlands. Measuring 60 centimetres, it is the second largest species of owl. For decades, it was considered extinct in the national park. Since 1975, the birds have been bred and released into the wild. Now there are over half a dozen breeding grounds. A slow success. Ural owls need unspoiled mountain forests rich in beech with many dead trees. Here they breed in the old trunks. It's important that there are clearings close to their home in the forest. This is where their main prey lives in large numbers. Mice. The black woodpecker is often the ural owl's neighbour. It also makes its home in the mixed woodland. It prefers to peck its home into the trunks of living beech trees. Of the nine different woodpecker species in Germany, seven reside in the Bavarian Forest National Park. Five of them regularly breed here. To make sure the young black woodpeckers get their fill, the parents bring ants, wood wasps, as well as bark and longhorn beetles. And as with all young siblings, there's always one who thinks it got less than the other. Others don't have it quite so easy. They have to cover long distances to find food. The purple emperor has come all the way from the treetops. The butterfly prefers to forage for food in the morning. Skillfully, it sucks moisture and minerals from the forest floor with its long trunk. The rare butterfly is picky. It prefers rotten carcasses or animal dung. The European otter prefers fish, but it's not too picky. It will go for almost anything that's making its way along the riverbank, from muskrats to frogs, ducks, coots to the occasional worm and insect. Which is why the wren should be careful. The bird is probably too quick for the otter, but the nest with the young ones could be a welcome alternative meal. The wren remains cautious, not flying to its nest in case it gives it away. But the otter seems full and far more interested in playing in the water. Or maybe it's seen the nest and knows it's out of reach. But only once the otter is gone does the careful wren return for the next feed. For another little bird, breeding season is in full swing. The pygmy owl. The smallest of the owls is native to the region and grows no larger than a starling. The pygmy owl likes it clean and any debris is quickly thrown from the nest. The national park is home to around 50 breeding pairs of the small owl. They often use old woodpecker homes as their nest and start hunting at nightfall. Their behaviour is unremarkable and they are one of the most secretive dwellers of the forest. Quickly and with lightning speed, the small owl returns to its nest after hunting. During the summer months, a mighty thunderstorm is never far away. The mountains hold every bad weather front, so downpours often interrupt the sunshine. The summers are cool and wet, the climate is harsh. In the thick mist, the trees comb the water particles from the passing fog clouds. In the highlands, the amount of water gained through this method exceeds even that of rainfall. Real stroke of bad luck. Falling out of the protected nest in inhospitable weather. The fate of this young sparrow hawk. Whether he ventured too close to the edge or his mother accidentally nudged him out in her flight from the nest is now of little importance. Only a few meters above him, his siblings and his mother, they take no notice of him. She's busy feeding all the beaks that remain in the nest. A young sparrow hawk falling out of the nest is quite common. The losses are made up for by the high amount of offspring the bird has. The sparrow hawk has a bad reputation amongst bird lovers. The beautiful birds are keen predators. The little one has survived the long fall, but alone and helpless doesn't stand a chance on the forest floor. A new day and the problems of yesterday are forgotten. Without a care in the world, the robin enjoys a bath in the sodden grass. The wet blades allow for a thorough clean. Breakfast time. The rare capercaillie hen is already awake at this early hour. Not a reason for the robin to be disturbed from his bath. The hen is scavenging for food. The deadwood areas offer the careful bird plenty of shelter from its enemies. Yet still, the capercaillie hen, the largest of the native forest birds, is threatened with extinction even though it isn't hunted. Its natural habitat outside of the park has been steadily reduced and the coy animal has been forced into the highlands where it meets ramblers or walkers in snow boots. It will take some time until this spider has something to eat. It's still working on its deadly trap, as flawless as it is ingenious, perfected over millennia. An unmanaged wild forest. Nowhere can the cycles of nature be better observed than here in the national park. Trees grow, get older, die, fall and make way for new generations. Only the play of light and shadow, of growth and collapse and the proximity of young forest and clearing enable such diversity. The more species here, the closer its natural state and the more resistant it is to pests and environmental factors. These ancient natural forests are also home to the Ural owl. These beautiful owls are usually only active at night or dawn. It's only when they have young to feed that they hunt during the day. Young Ural owls already scramble out of the nest at three weeks. Not yet able to fly, they sit on neighbouring tree trunks where they're fed over a period of weeks. But that still doesn't guarantee a feeding. This time the mother only has food for the second fledgling. She takes care to make the portions as small and clean. It's a time-consuming process that often takes too long for the little one. Like all young creatures, it still has to master patience. The Ural owls only leave their parents after three months. Patience is a virtue the cross spider must master. And the wait is worth it. There is no escape for the victim, her daddy longlegs. First it's encased. Then digestive juice is injected into it. And finally it's sucked dry. The end of June. A pack of deer is grazing on the forest edge. The stately animals find enough food in the clearing. Essential for the growth of their antlers and bodies. They are still carrying the velvet antlers that grew in recent weeks. Its velvet covering is very sensitive. The reason why the animals are being so careful. Conditions and age dictate how strong and spread the antlers become. They're fully grown after about five months. And within weeks the velvet is brushed off. There's a strict division of labour for the sparrowhawks while the fledglings are still small. The female tends to the young and the male hunts for food. Only when the young are two weeks old and can no longer be fed by the male alone does the female leave the nest to also hunt. Summer in the highlands. The willow herb is in full bloom. Its roots keep the soil firm and protect the forest's new generation. Countless animals make the most from their plentiful supply of blossoms and the occasional berry is also highly prized by those in the know. Dead wood is anything but dead and is teeming with life. Countless plants, mushrooms and small animals use and take the wood apart. For beetles it's not just food but a shelter for their larvae. Even very rare species like the brown spotted click beetle. For years this was considered lost or extinct and has only been rediscovered recently. The beetle hails from a time when this was still primordial forest. The death of a tree giant offers living space for endangered animal species. Over decades, mushrooms, plants and animals besiege the slowly degrading trunk. One day it will disappear and with it the species that are dependent upon it unless a tree nearby has also fallen to its natural death. The horizontal trees, the dense entanglement of twigs and the regrowth offer shelter to the caper kelly hen. Here it can remain undisturbed for now. She has nothing to fear from the honey buzzard yet its presence unsettles her. It's probably lost its way and soon disappears. The young lynx has never set eyes on a honey buzzard before. For the young feline the wood is one big playground with endless new things to discover. Nowadays one litter of lynx are born a year in the national park. Usually a litter only consists of two young and only two out of ten animals survive into adulthood but there is even more reason to fear for the lynx future. It's rare that a lynx which leaves the national park will survive. Although the animals are under protection they're often poisoned or shot despite hundreds of thousands of euros being spent on their protection and research. A sad reality in Bavaria often unmentioned. Even the sparrowhawk is illegally hunted outside the national park. Only half the young survive beyond their first year although other birds of prey and mid-air collisions are more to blame than human intervention. Young lynx are suckled for six months. After two months they also start to eat solid food. They stay with their mother until they are a year old and must then hunt on their own terrain. A decision that can make the difference between life and death. After they've flown the nest sparrowhawks stay around for three to four weeks. They only fly back to the nest for feeding. The shadows grow longer. The otter has chosen a comfortable spot for the night. Almost perfect if it weren't for the disturbance. The woodpecker still seems to be hungry. Because of hunting the otter has become a nocturnal animal. In the national park it feels safe. Here it is often on the move during the day and can sleep at night. It is the return to the wild. The diversity large and small that gives this forest its strength and natural beauty. Nature can flourish here without any disturbance and has been able to do so for millennia. In summer and winter the countryside offers a fascinating insight and shows a world that is unique in central Europe and can only be found here in the Bavarian forest.