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November blues
The – somewhat cheerless – summer has passed, the harvest has come in so far and we have already arrived in November of this strange and memorable year. Depending on how you look at it, November is the month of the dead or the month in which decisive things often happen on a political level or the month in which life in nature retreats into the earth and gradually comes to rest.
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The end of the street
An old man shuffles down a street with heavy steps until he comes to a bench, on which he lets himself fall, exhausted. The road ends here.
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My friend the tree
“My friend, the tree, is dead…” sang Alexandra in 1968. The old childhood friend fell in the early morning red.
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Let the sunshine in!
I can’t get this unknown song out of my head:
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home office
Mowgli no longer travels. Mowgli stays at home with his boss. At least for now. While you feel like an amateur actor in a disaster film and are carefully dividing up the last toilet paper on earth, quite a few people are already standing in front of a pile of broken pieces or are trying to save what can be saved. Wherever possible, people now work from home, including Mowgli’s boss. So put on your sweatpants and get to your desk!
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If I live another 10 years
If I still live 10 years, that will be 3653 days of life with the upcoming leap days. If this were a sum of money, let's say in euros, one could speak of a nice sum, but not of a fortune. So I wouldn't have very much in my account anymore.
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The shadow on the wall
It's amazing how seemingly insignificant things can sometimes teach us something important.
