Grains in Summer Time


Standing still in the middle of a golden wheat field near my house, with my arms open, spread out to the side, feeling the wind around me, feeling the grain brushing against my arms and hands. I remember. I was little then, like merely just four years old. And I looked across the fields, to the houses and the restaurants by the road. Watching the wheat stalks swaying. Breathing, taking in the scents of summer, the earth and the grass. And I hear this far away roaring sound above me, a plane soaring across the sky high above me, looking so small in the distance. There I looked up and I watched. And I listened. And this longing came over me. I wanted to be on that plane. Travelling, flying away. That sound always stuck with me, that sound of a plane in the distance, fading, in summertime, in the lovely warm breeze, in the fields… I love it, I feel it.

And soon of course I would be on it, that plane in the distance. I was fortunate to travel often as a child, and we lived in different countries too. I remember adventure times in America, exotic trips to northern Africa. Road trips throughout the States, horse riding through hot, rocky mountains, surfing along the coastline, boat trips on the sea… I felt the heat of deserts throughout America and the cold of Niagara waterfalls. I had encounters with American natives. I saw snakes drifting with the stream in rivers, crocodiles, sharks, wild horses running… thunderstorms without any rain, electrifying the air. Freedom…!  Just riding… calling to the ever moving soul of the inner nomad.  It so inspired me.

When we then went home to Germany where I had to go to school, I already had seen so much, I couldn’t be like the other kids. I felt like a stranger… without a home.

To just be and see, observe and breathe it all in… it’s so easy as a child… and then we forget, even though it is the essence of us all. Suddenly there is a reminder.

It’s been a while since I walked across a wheat field and gently stretched out my arms to stroke the grain with my fingers, feeling the summer breeze on my skin, soaking the silence… listening for a plane flying high above, fading in the distance.  I will, this summer!

“Don’t try to understand, just feel”.  And the perfect song and video to underline this mood is Interpol’s Mind Over Time.

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