I’m from an area in the north of Germany which is characterized by agriculture. In our village, there were two farmers with large farms. In the cow barn on my great-uncle’s farm, I was allowed to ride the cows and play with the kittens. Around the village, there were fields with wheat and barley, rhy and sugar beets as well as meadows for forage. Along the dirt tracks, there were apple trees which in autumn and winter stretched their twisted branches decorately towards the sky.
The summer was full off the different tones of green: every crop its own green, every green made up of various different green tones. Nothing more beautiful than the barley covering the field with its soft green down.
These days remind me of my childhood: the crops grow and show all their beauty.
