In the summer of thirty-two years ago, when the wild cherry tree in the garden was bearing magnificent red fruit, the Schmidts, who actually have a different name, moved into the house of their deceased parents in the microcosm of a terraced housing estate in the lower Taunus.
Both were looking forward to a future living experience on the edge of meadows and fields in the middle of nature and were already curious about their neighborhood.
There were no hurdles or pitfalls that could have stood in the way of a good relationship.
The daughter is grown up, she lives abroad, the foster dog is a well-behaved, reserved animal, and the couple themselves prefer small guest invitations to lavish parties.
In addition, the neighbors on the left were longtime friends and the neighbors on the right, a retired judge and his wife, were sympathetic, agreeable and extremely peaceful contemporaries.
But it was exactly a week before Mr. Schmidt found a handwritten note in his mailbox.
A W. family, who lived on the back private road, wrote about the crushed wild cherries from the tree of the Schmidts and von Vogelsch.
.
.
and that it was an impertinence that this dirt was carried into her well-kept front yard and thus also into her well-kept house.
They demanded daily cleaning - and that the cherry tree had to be felled.
The thing with the note was just the beginning
After the first shock, the Schmidts found out about the neighbors' law in Hesse, 19th edition, and wrote back that according to paragraph 906 ff., paragraph 15, the "impairment" by small berries or fruits falling over from the neighboring property was a local and reasonable impact that must be tolerated.
They referred to corresponding court rulings and recommended that the W. family often take the broom into their own hands in front of their property.
One guesses.
The thing with the note was just the beginning, years would pass and countless letters would go back and forth until the Ws sold their house and moved to another area, while the wild cherry tree continued to grow, blossom and bear red fruit, which the blackbirds appreciated.
Another neighbor made life difficult for the Schmidt couple.
A meticulous single pensioner known to the whole ranks as a nag who, tape measure in hand, watched the Schmidts' ivy tendrils suspiciously for fear they might soon invade his balcony.
A neighbor from the corner house, who was perceived as friendly, was later disenchanted when she clamored loudly about the Schmidts’ garbage cans, which she believed to be untidy and gave the obstacles a hard kick because the bin blocked her view when parking.
Time passed, many homeowners rented homes for the elderly, got old, got sick, needed care or died.
Cheering children suddenly didn't bother anyone anymore
Young families with small children now lived in the terraced houses and set impulses for a refreshing, different kind of neighborhood.
Suddenly no one bothered children cheering, and also no bratwurst vapors from the grill and no happy laughter after 10 p.m.