Before I fly into the wild and unknown Far-away (to a country that
most people respond to :„where the duck is that ?“) I thought it´s
quite appropriate to make a post about the unknown Very-close.
BRANDENBURG !
I´d consider that most people could react to this region just the same: where the duck is that and why should anybody go there ?
A black spot in most minds (just like mine a few years ago). But I want to give a drop of colour into that gap.
On one wonderful, slightly-melancholic, free afternoon in mid-february. Me and my bike. Emptyness, sky, silence that can be broken with songs to the rhythm of pedaling, fueling the first rays of sun, space for thoughts, reflextions and memories…
Last year when I did
not have the chance to travel far but the need to make a trip alone
into nature was immense I decided to make a small trip north of
berlin. Randomly stroling around on my bike for a few days from lake
to lake (whose countless number btw. is so big that you´d need years
even visiting one per day). I didnt take my camera with me and rarely
turned on my phone so the only way I captured the beauty of the
moments was my memory. Pictures and feelings... especially that
situation when I felt lost in a small slightly touristy village and
it already started to dawn. I thought my bike is broken, I didnt know
where to put my tent (too many people + a nature reserve= no wild
camping) and rejected the option of an official camp, I ate a poorly
cooked cauliflower – plain, because that was the only thing i had
and there was no shop and restaurants didnt attract me (blablabla)…
you get the stress level.
So after sitting
around like this for some time- occupied by the spirals in my
head and sulking on my own I got fed up with myself. And something
that always helps in those mind-rat-race situations is ...water (did you
ever regret taking a shower ?). Lukily I was
on a peninsula and so I made my way to the water a few hundert meters
away.
Most of the people
already left the sandy beach for dinner and just a few couples sat
around on the slopy meadow enjoying the last bits of the sun. The
water glasclear – cuban shore blue. The temperature so perfekt that
you enjoy every step you take into the liquid to finally let your
body be surrounded by it fully. The orange sun finally touching the
trees, colouring the surface of the lake and the sky into a reddish
pink-amber. No thoughts- only full surrender to the holiness of that
moment. Minutes that become years. Something between the fall of the
day – the rise of the night. For me like something between death
and rebirth. Surrender to gain energy and trust into anything that
might come.
…
Clearly I survived the night. And also the next days were full of magic. Not far from home. But far enough to find home with-in myself again. „Oh I was never lost, I only chose to never go home“
Clearly I survived the night. And also the next days were full of magic. Not far from home. But far enough to find home with-in myself again. „Oh I was never lost, I only chose to never go home“
An ode to
Brandenburg (and McPomm)
P.S.: The following
photos are from the day-trip in february. I decided not to edit them
at all.
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| To confront yourself You don´t need to travel far Sometimes it´s enough to visit grandma |
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