Das Licht von Dragomar. – Noch kein Eintrag.
Kapitel 4: Ich bin Einkaufen und am Strand
Sie sind nicht autorisiert, diese Seite zu sehen. Benutzername Passwort Angemeldet bleiben Passwort vergessen
Baltic Thorns
A A A T T links BLOCK BLOCK Kapitel 1: 73 "Baltic Thorns" „Baltic Thorns“ Marc Krautwedel Das Buch: Hanna, her daughters Sandy and Trixi and her five adult grandchildren find out late in life that her son-in-law has far more problems than the sea buckthorn dying on the family’s fruit farm in Kuhlungsborn. Their livelihood is threatened and everyone pitches in. Generations come together in a landscape whose beauty invites you to pause and reflect. It is a family story about six months with the smaller and larger feelings and experiences in a rural but tourist-oriented region. „It’s the change, not the twist.“ Der Autor: Marc Krautwedel. Born in 1968 in the south of Hamburg, studied architecture in Cottbus and now lives on the coast in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern after ten years in the city center of Munich. Deeply connected to biology, art and literature. Single, childless. 73 „Seventy-three. Come on, Lenni!“ Dog-cold, the wind bites with waves of the finest pinpricks into the naked and sparsely haired surfaces of two personalities who could not be more different in grace and mentality, whose natural endeavor to come together is supported by mutual respect. „Don’t think about staying out,“ she pats him. „You Mexican bat have too thin a skin.“ The midday sun penetrates deep into the Baltic seaside resort of Kuhlungsborn’s city forest, which is bare of foliage at this time of year, illuminating the silky-soft mist above the thicket and the tall, aged beeches and maples appear like individual witnesses of time, hidden in absorbent cotton undergrowth, silent in noble restraint. A reforested piece of cultivated landscape, criss-crossed by axes, whose narrowness is conspicuous to those who do not make a living from its stands in nothing other than the will of the visitors to leave it again in good time in order to turn to new surroundings. Lenni’s mistress comes with him from some of the ‚walks‘ that were carved into the forest over a hundred years ago. The paths were approved to enrich the moments outside the bathing experience of vacationers seeking relaxation and edification in the most pleasant way. On the way back from another mission, Lenni and Bertha are on the last few meters of the sidewalk up to the flat garden door of the front garden of their house on Beach Road, which, like the fence, is covered with green rabbit wire to prevent the dog from slipping through. She moves carefully to her destination, the highest point of the street, opposite the former Imperial Post Office. The patches of snow and ice that cause moments of shock have been a thing of the past for two months. The large paving slabs remain free of obstacles. It is their own positional characteristics that demand attention in some places. The magnificent, medium-sized street trees, which complement the ancient, radically shaved lime trees that will sprout again in a few weeks, lend the sidewalk increased expressiveness by showing a new facet of participation beyond their climatic-aesthetic contribution and the shade they provide. With their roots, they position the slabs that fall into their clutches in the image of their vitality. Minimal deviations encourage passers-by not to shuffle along. The elderly lady in her late eighties forces herself to appreciate the individual plates every day with every step she takes. „Hi Bertha. Seventy-three? Are you counting? It’s a bit early,“ calls a quarrelsome voice from a convertible-like, red light vehicle of small size and seat height with thin off-road tires and a careless, arm-length loading area framed in wood. Silently, and consequently unnoticed, it comes to a halt in the driveway. A woman sits in it, laughing as she is picked up, her face and habit with a look flanked by fire, fresher than the date of birth on her ID card would suggest. The summoned woman remains bent over, facing the animal, her head with its short gray hair hidden in the dark blue felt coat lying heavily on her shoulders. „Early? For whom? Did you fall out of bed? Or are you talking about the season?“ „What do you think?“ „I count out of habit. Waiting in line at the supermarket checkout is no longer my thing. TheKONSUM days are over. When I’m waiting, my last waking moments run away,“ she mutters self-explanatorily in the direction of her dog sitting in front of her, who, contrary to his usual practice of not barking, is running around in excitement and inspecting the intruder – friend or stranger. „Why are you shouting? I’m old, not deaf,“ she bitches, directly addressed, in equal, low-pulse argumentativeness. She straightens up, turns around and looks at the person standing on the small vehicle in her driveway, which has been unused and overgrown with moss for years, with an expression of sublime disapproval. „Hi Hanna. What do you want with the French toy in the city, in winter, far away from home?“ „For the six kilometers, it’s not necessary to drive Jean to the power socket. I could get to Rostock and back.“ „That’s not a dog on the walk to unload. Here we go again. What kind of granny drives around with a soapbox that has escaped from Kinderland or the golf course, talks about it as if it were a mutt and names it after a prophet? In French? You were always different. I don’t understand that. We’re from the very old families who were there before the first vacationers moved here. Tell Trixi that her grandfather was a hero – and broad-shouldered. You can’t tell with her,“ grumbles Bertha Finow, her eyes fixed on Hanna Glowatz, moving towards her with the wear and tear of years in her bones and repeatedly hitting one of the vehicle’s tires with her walking stick. The grumpy grandmother of five shivers briefly, laughs appreciatively, shakes her head with her gray-brunette hair, which is thin in parts and
Spieleentwicklung
Свет Драгомара-ПРОЛОГ
Книга не является детской, хотя могла бы ею быть. Это не басня, хотя почти все говорит за нее.
В одном книга уверена точно: это признание в любви к жизни, уважению, разуму и человечеству в целом.
Prinzessin Ayla – Ankündigung
Test, Test, Test. Bitte nicht ernst nehmen. Gute Nacht Geschichten werden geschrieben und sind auch schon geschrieben. Es muss nur noch Ordnung in das System.
Hinweis
Danke für Ihren Besuch. Kommen Sie doch in den nächsten Tagen wieder vorbei. Diese Website ist noch nicht in Betrieb. Gut, sie ist in Betrieb aber sie hat noch keine Inhalte.