On the northwest side of Lake Lygnern is Ramhultafallet or Ramhulta Falls, a large, multi-tiered waterfall. It can be spectacular after a big rain as is shown in this images I found on Wikipedia.
Just like our visit to Sätila Sand, we had the place to ourselves. I expected to hear the sound of rushing water grow louder and louder as we made our way down the path. However, the day we were at Ramhultafallet there was barely a trickle cascading over the rocks and boulders and out to the lake below. But I was far from disappointed. It was an amazing place to visit for a totally unexpected reason.
This sign was posted near the waterfall. Of course it's in Swedish. Luckily, Brent had an app on his phone which would automatically translate any text into English.
It reads in part:
The power of water has been of great significance to people throughout the ages. Since the 17th Century there have been mills in the Ramhulta Falls. A large mill and a hand-driven malt mill existed here into the 20th Century. It was a lively place and the farmers came from all directions, including across the lake, to grind their grain into flour.
. . . .The roads did not look like nowadays and the farmers who traveled the country road to the mill had to walk along roads that were more reminiscent of paths. They had to lead their horses or oxen, which were loaded with a sack on each side.
How many generations of my ancestral family, I wondered, have walked down the path I just navigated and found their way to where I am right now? Call me crazy, but whether or not they had actually ever been there, I felt them there.
I pondered those thoughts and feelings for quite some time as I sat near the trickling water, taking in the all the sights and sounds and smells surrounding me. I wanted to capture more than just a memory and a few digital images. I wanted this experience to continue to live and to grow.
I pondered those thoughts and feelings for quite some time as I sat near the trickling water, taking in the all the sights and sounds and smells surrounding me. I wanted to capture more than just a memory and a few digital images. I wanted this experience to continue to live and to grow.
I looked around and noticed an abundance of moss growing on the rocks and the base of the trees.
I had Brent gather up enough moss to fill a small ziplock bag which I just happened to have with me. Admittedly, bringing home a little plastic bag full or questionable green organic material on an airplane was a bit scary. So I just hid it inside a sock and, luckily, I didn't have to explain it to anyone.
I have to add that when I was at Ramhultafallet, and even for several months following our trip, I was of the belief that my great-grandfather's birth place was on the opposite side of Lake Lygnern, making this specific part of Sätila Parish as having no significant importance other than a place where they might have come to grind their grain. But once I was introduced to 18th and 19th century Swedish land survey maps and figured out how to use them, I found out...I was wrong. My great-grandfather was not born on the other side of the lake. He was born less than half a mile away. His father's mother lived on the farm next door. His mother's parents were a stone's throw away and his father's parents weren't much farther. In fact, we had driven right between many of their farms to get to the parking lot.
I have no doubt the beauty and utility of the waterfall would have drawn them to it, for a variety of reasons. And I have every reason to believe they were right where I was many, many times over.
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