In our editorial meeting the question arose whether someone would like to write something about his favourite place. This gave me food for thought. What frightened me somehow was the fact that I couldn't name a place at all. Do I have too many of these places and I can't name a favourite place, or do I not have a place that I always visit in my memory or imagination or in my dreams?

But what rather occupied me was the question of what actually makes this favourite place so lovable and special for me. I believe that a favourite place is always also a place of longing. A place that makes more difference to you than just a beautiful view. Rather, this is a place with which you associate memories, similar to a certain smell, e.g. a perfume in your nose, or a certain song in your ear.
Such places occur to me in abundance, when the work becomes too much again or the worries too big. But these are often places where I haven't even been. Places I only know from television or stories. A place of longing is always connected with a dream or at least a hope. A place where one finds all that one wants most of all - be it the desire for peace, the feeling of being warmed by the sun on the beach during the cold season, or a place where one can find retreat. A place of longing - a place I long for. That makes sense! I have many such places. I realise this now that I am writing these lines. In my mind these places are very often connected with the sea, a lake or a huge, wide river. The Dahme or the Spree are less suitable for this because of their not quite so impressive appearance. And yet these rivers, which adorn our district and are the envy of many people, can also be favourite places and places of longing.
When we were young we went to take a bath in the Dahme (somewhere around Wendenschloss). In spite of the summer, it still got dark eventually and so we made a campfire in the forest. That is of course forbidden, and nevertheless we did it anyways. We watched every boat, always worried that it might be the water police. Every few minutes one of my friends jumped up and stood in front of the fire with a blanket so that (at least that's what we thought) you couldn't see the fire from the water. That night we were lucky - nobody caught us and the forest didn't catch fire either. This moment with my friends, the feeling of adventure and the unbridled hunger for life we felt at that time, probably makes this memory so special for me. Sometimes I long to return to this time. So this is also a place of longing for me, or rather a time of longing?!

Let's wait and see what I experience next. Perhaps the place of my experience will soon make it into the list of my places of longing...

Photo: Private