Right at the banks of the Rhine we conjured a Simsalabim in the trees for two siblings. The magic treehouse sits between a chestnut and a maple tree like ingrown. Detailed to the last unicorn: even the entrance-door with its radial woodsticks smiles at the Rhine. We turned the head of the ridge purlin into a proud eagle. He watches over the treehouse inhabitants with argus eyes, scares away evil spirits and unpleasant nightmares. The window blinds are decorated with fabulous unicorns. Strong women heads are the lockings to hold them in place. At night a bright warm lantern points the way to the treehouse.

 The wild branch railing, the red-brown cedar-shingle roof and an iron oxide-treated siding make the treehouse look like it has always been here. Down the fire pole the kids can exit the miracle house like a flash, a steep ladder takes them back up again. Practiced magicians fly right to the platform.

 Inside, coziness waits patiently with a pedestal comprising fluffy pillows and blankets. Here you can hang out, curse and try the latest magic spells. Upstairs a sleeping loft and observation post with a round window for approaching owls, bats and dragons is hiding. Somewhere here is also the secret compartment. Where? We won’t tell.