Heimat

Heimat is about leaving and returning. About the respect one has for one’s work and home and about living on credit. About mothers and sons. About fathers and how early morning light shines into the room. About summer clothes and uniforms. About the three eggs on the window sill. About that first car and about radio tubes. About saying goodbye and the key behind the window shutter. About animals and motorcycles. About brothels in Berlin and about falling in love for the first time. About kitchens and attics. About aeroplanes and chocolate. About bomb-disposal units and discovering faith. It is about the differences between men and women. About the loaf of bread you hold up against your chest to slice. About pillows and chewing gums. About prayers during the night and weddings by proxy. About the hammer and the anvil. It is about the dawn of a new age and about grandmothers. About the construction of highways and feet that walk 5000 kilometres to get home. About a letter from the USA and about blueberries. About air raids, hair-do’s and bank loans. And always about rolling stones gathering no moss.