This city surprises me. So much green. So much nature. On the meadow, rabbits lie and run about. They don't even let themselves be disturbed by people walking past them. Not even by dogs, as long as they're on a leash. In a garden, a hedgehog strolls along the hedge, then disappears into a flower bed with dense shrubs. Birds fly around, heading for garden fences or a barrel of rainwater.

It could be so beautiful and idyllic. But it isn't.

Detmerode lies south of Wolfsburg's center. It's also called the concrete city. Many buildings tower into the sky. Not too high, but high enough to accommodate a great many people. Eight or ten stories. Not far from us, a concrete block that towers above everything else. A new high-rise under construction. In its current form, ugly and gray, naked. A promise of living space in the near future. Then the somewhat smaller ones, three or four stories high. And again and again in between, flat, single-story buildings. Single-family houses.

Nevertheless, the surroundings are not overcrowded. The streets are wide, the sidewalks broad, of which there are many. Divided for pedestrians or cyclists. Alongside them, trees, meadows, and shrubs. Rich green. Within walking distance from us, a pond. But above everything, an incessant rushing sound. Not in waves, in the rhythm of the sea. Different. Uniform and monotonous in its tone. It has no beginning and no end. And no possibility of escaping it.

Somewhere there's a road that knows no day and no night. It's always on On. All it knows, all it gives off, is this rushing sound. It penetrates through the walls and, with an open window, deep into the bones. A vibrating that dissolves everything. Who among those living here is still aware of this? Someone once said you can get used to anything. That doesn't apply to us. I don't even want to. Because that's not good, not healthy in the long run.

We don't find the good life here. A pity, because nature is right at our doorstep, but unfortunately it's not alone. Fortunately, we'll leave it behind us in foreseeable time. But what else awaits us here in the northern spheres of this country that's so full it takes your breath away? I fear nothing good and yet hope for a miracle. A miracle of peace. And a miracle of a home.