The House
Fritzl Alberchtsberger built Rookscroft to remind him of home, donning lederhosen and drinking his legendary beer. Though he loved the forest and mountains, he longed for the red deer and wild boar of his childhood. In the early 1900s, he imported them at great expense, their crates marked "this way up" and "live creatures, may bite." Sadly, it’s said these beasts played a role in his demise… but that’s a tale for another time.
Toward the end, Fritzl grew eccentric, shunning people for creatures only he could see. His wife Isolde didn’t seem to mind, and carved likenesses of his “friends” remain around the house—the wild dancing weasels are my favourite.
Their beer, made with pure mountain spring water, flowed into a deep pond, now home to giant catfish and frogs. The house itself, built from island limestone, offers breathtaking views—through old leaded windows, the sea and distant mountains shimmer, glowing at night with village lights and passing boats.
The Hedgerows
The hedgerows are alive with creatures in burrows, nests, and cozy little homes. Near the house, hidden pathways wind through the garden and orchard. If you look closely, you may find a basket of baby carrots and berries—Frank leaves them for a shy neighbor to collect.
The apple orchard holds quiet traces of visitors—a ladder left against a tree, a small basket of fruit, a blanket spread beneath the branches. Deeper in the brambles, I once found a tiny satchel snagged on a thorn, surely belonging to one of the deer mice from the woodshed.
In spring, bleeding hearts bloom among the ferns, swaying gently after the long winter. A linen handkerchief, caught on a wild rose bush, hints at its mysterious owner—perhaps a chicken, given its vintage country charm.
Beyond the main path in the Wild Woods, creatures keep to the deep trees, while high above the treeline, sunlit wildflowers offer sanctuary to butterflies, bumblebees, and tiny woodland wanderers.
The Forest
Behind the house, a little gate at the top of the field opens to the lane. Turn left, and it dips before climbing gently through a woodland of shimmering alders, leading toward the Wild Woods.
In a sunlit clearing, not far from the house, lies a quiet woodland pond where Aunty Winnie lives. Fritzl must have loved it too—he planted a grand gunnera on its banks.
Further up the winding path, watch for a deer trail to the right. If you’re lucky, you’ll spot Harold’s house, its green front door nestled among the trees.
Mossy rocks and lush ferns carpet the ground in deep greens, while songbirds give way to the sharp cries of woodpeckers and the mischievous calls of ravens who watch your ascent.
Higher still, the silvery alders give way to towering evergreens, home to wise wolves who sing beneath the moon and silent mountain lions who observe, unseen, as you pass.
The Sea
This path winds from the house gates all the way down to the sea.
Along the way, a grassy field hides an underground fox village, where on sunny spring mornings, young kits tumble and play in the golden light.
Search the coastline, and you may find a hidden cove with a glittering grotto—home to Judge DP Bonneville. Its walls shimmer with shells, glowing in the dim light.
The tidal postway allows islanders to send messages across the sea. Though the method remains a mystery, bottles are left at precise times and places, carried safely by the tides. One has just arrived—inside, a rolled-up letter… how exciting!
Out in the bay, the Obscura steams toward the cove, captained by Jack Fogg, with first mate Samuel Sippers at his side and Mordecai keeping watch from the crow’s nest.
Beyond the snowy peaks to the north, a harvest moon hangs low, casting golden light across the lagoon.