April Flowers on a Good Friday in Berlin

For Good Friday I went on a long walk to Berlin Mitte. Although sunshine was pouring through the buildings and the newly leafy trees, dark grey clouds were piling toward the north and although a swift wind was whisking them away again I didn't feel that I was timing the walk particularly cleverly. But in case of a downpour, I decided, I could always take the bus back home again.

During the walk I thought a great deal about the shops along the way, wondering how much business they had. There were also two nightclubs, and exaggerated though it was there was a smell of burning rubber that I thought was roughly reminiscent of brimstone. And there were a few businesses and organizations that cater to newcomers to Berlin, and that made me reflective about the hopes and dreams that people might have; and whether they got assistance or whether the places that were supposed to help were exploitative instead, either because they were not well run or because they were fraudulent.

Less gloomily, I was likewise fascinated by the plants. The trees and grass and other shrubs all have a dreamy green about them, as if they were fresh from a tube of oil paint and were lingeringly slumberous from their winter rest. There are red tulips in a velvety rich colour that are popular in ad hoc street side plantings, and glow from behind the minuscule palings and the spears of early grass. In fact, the grass and especially the tree leaves glow in every light and at every time of day, from the draining grey of dawn to the dark of night. The lines of buildings, while still grayish and wintry depending on their building material, are clear against them; and a few days ago there was also something nice about a freshly blossoming tree in front of the church at Südstern station, which to be unoriginal did look bridal and almost as if it were going to its dryad wedding and its groom was waiting at the steps.

There were also ghost-like creamy tulips with spear-tipped petals congregating in a bed of ivy leaves, red deadnettle underneath trees and purple heal-all in a lawn, merry striped red or golden or orange ones at the roadsides, squat dandelions, and dark baby blue chionodoxa that looked as if their days were numbered as they bore fewer yet intense flowers. I loved the fresh, damp green of the juvenile linden leaves and the glittering litter of minuscule petals that have been scattered over the ground like gold coins in the Grimm fairy tale — although I can't tell if they come from linden trees or some other species — for the past week or so. And daffodils, unfailingly bright. The Reichpietschufer canal was dark, fall leaves still floating in it; but the chestnuts and other trees at its side looked even leafier than many other trees, and even if the water itself was empty I thought it seemed to be expecting the barges and other traffic of summer, imminently.