Somewhere just outside Osnabrück, hidden in a leafy patch of North-West Germany, there's a treehouse with a name that feels more like poetry than a location: Zwischen Erle und Eiche — “Between Alder and Oak.” It sounds like the start of a fairytale, and honestly, stepping into it feels like one too. You’re not climbing into some childhood dream made of pallets and rope — this is something else entirely. Elegant. Quiet. Thoughtful.
The first thing that catches your eye is the roof — not flat, not sharply pitched, but curved in soft, flowing waves, like it’s mimicking the treetops it shelters beneath. It doesn’t shout for attention, it just fits. Then there’s the glass — everywhere. Panes that stretch across every side, plus a generous dormer window up top, let the forest spill in. On sunny mornings, it’s golden. On misty ones, you feel like you’re floating inside a cloud.
To get there, you climb — not a ladder, but a proper, crafted staircase. The first stop is a small terrace. It’s simple, just a table and a couple of chairs, but it’s the kind of spot where time slips. Birds chatter, leaves rustle, and suddenly your coffee's gone cold because you’ve been staring at nothing for 30 minutes. That kind of peaceful.
Then comes the cabin — raised another meter above. Just that bit higher, and it makes a difference. Inside, it's compact, yes, but smartly done. There’s a cushy lying area that basically demands you stretch out and do absolutely nothing. Opposite, a bench. That’s it. And that’s all you need. There are clever drawers tucked underneath, carved out of oak, just in case you brought more than a book and a sweater.
What’s remarkable isn’t any one thing. It’s how it all flows together — architecture, light, materials, silence. It doesn’t try to impress, it just is. And in a world that never shuts up, that’s something kind of rare.
Is it fancy? No, not really. But it doesn’t have to be. Zwischen Erle und Eiche is the sort of place you go to exhale. To read. To sleep early. To forget Wi-Fi exists. And maybe — just maybe — to remember what it feels like to do absolutely nothing and not feel guilty about it.
Add a review