There are nine publicly accessible stargazing sites here. The Star Park was recently recognized; it is one of 139 International Star Parks worldwide that were selected for their “exceptionally clear night skies and an undisturbed nighttime environment” . Anyone who’d like to can book a stargazing guide: Some focus on the telescope and point out Saturn’s rings or lunar craters, while others share myths about the constellations. A particularly popular activity: gliding across the lake in a canoe by moonlight while the starry sky unfolds above. When the Perseids fall from the sky in August, around 200 people gather to wait together for the first shooting star.

The person largely responsible for how it all works here is Ralf Koch. He probably knows almost every rock, every tree, and every blade of grass. He has been working at the Nossentiner/Schwinzer Heide Nature Park for over three decades and knows that the stars here are just one of many features that make the heath so special.

For early riser Ralf Koch, a typical day begins quite calmly at 5:15 a.m. with a black coffee and his cello. He started learning the instrument at the adult education center at age 58 because he and his wife—a harpist herself—love classical music. Now he sits down at the cello every morning to relax before the day begins. He combines his love of music with his love of nature: When a concert takes place at the end of July at the Mecklenburg-Vorpommern Festival in the old church in Nossentin, Ralf leads the guests through the adjacent park beforehand, up to the Kalkberg. “People come down there, find peace – and afterward, we all listen to wonderful music together,” he says. For him, it’s this connection between the place and the music that defines the festival.

But there’s still a little while to go. Today, Ralf Koch’s favorite animals are on the agenda. It’s bat counting time! He’s been fascinated by these animals ever since he went out with a group of bat enthusiasts from Thuringia in 1991 to search for nesting boxes. “It’s never left my mind,” he says. “Just look at their physique! The animals’ bodies have remained virtually unchanged for 50 million years. Their design is clearly ingenious. I was so captivated by this that it quickly became clear to me that I wanted to study this group of animals more closely.” He’s in the right place for that. About ten of the 18 bat species are currently native to this area.

As Ralf Koch hangs the box back in its place, the soft whir of a chainsaw drifts through the trees—probably forestry work. As the guide, Ralf likes to explain the difference between a nature park and a national park: In a national park, nature is left to its own devices, and humans take a back seat. A nature park, on the other hand, is a cultural landscape—here, people are meant to demonstrate how agriculture, forestry, and tourism can coexist in harmony. “This is a process that doesn’t happen overnight,” says Ralf. To keep people and the landscape in harmony, you need people who can inspire others. Ralf Koch is one such person. 

Later, the groups meet again at the nature conservation station. The individual animals are measured, banded, and identified by species. They are checked for mites and injuries, and their sex is recorded. Because bats have a good memory of their habitat, they can be released from the station in the evening; they find their way back to their boxes on their own. Anyone who would like to participate doesn’t have to wait for the big count: In the summer, the nature park offers guided tours with an ultrasonic detector, and there is also a bat trail.

He’s good at it himself, too; he enjoys being alone. He often just sits in the woods or by a lake under a tree—preferably at the Brillenseen, two small forest lakes connected by a narrow causeway. “Hardly anyone finds them,” says Ralf. In some spots, no one passes by all day. Isn’t the utter quietness unsettling for him? No, he says. He finds it more unsettling when he’s out and about in big cities, where everyone around him has their cell phones out and is rushing past him. 

Anyone who drives through Ralf Koch’s nature park with him will hear other stories as well. In Goldberg, the “City of Three Lies”—no gold, no city, no mountain—there’s a two-kilometer-long children’s trail called “Pilzy’s Nature Trail” around the Hellberg, which tells the story of the Caucasian Slope Mümler: a mythical creature invented by a school class with legs of varying lengths, perfectly adapted to life on the hillside. There’s a stamp at every stop along the route. This playful approach can also be found in the Rahmannsmoor—including the school course on moorland restoration—on the Star Route, and on the bat tours.

But a big change is coming up for Ralf Koch. Or rather, a moderate one. In September, after 35 years at the nature park—ten of them as deputy director and ten as director—Ralf will retire. Still, he doesn’t want to let go completely: “It’s a part of my life,” he says. He’ll continue his work through the Nature Park Foundation and the Friends of the Nature Park. 

Ralf Koch usually ends his day with a walk together with his wife and their dog, Frodo. The three of them walk three kilometers along the same path in any weather, observing the changes in nature. That’s part of Ralf’s approach: If you’re going to talk about nature, you have to know it. And he knows it well—the Klädder oaks, the clear-water lakes, the beavers and otters, the hikes around Langhans Lake, and the Rahmannsmoor. For Ralf Koch, nature is, above all, tranquility. He finds that tranquility in Dobbertin as well.