A city with a harbor. a large river. container ships. my old home. long time ago. many years ago. and even if it feels like revisiting the past, this is actually not possible. there are a few memories, yet the truth is, that ten years later no thread is left. the language ties the images from the past together. it is the only bridge into the present and it certainly makes me feel 'at home'. listening is effortless, talking even more so. i never have to search for a word, to ponder and think how to construct a sentence and yet quite often to my own surprise i answer in english. it is a sunny day, the bright light is shining into the office. yet when i close my eyes i can see myself sitting in the blue garden chair and drinking a cup of coffee. the transition is so effortless, that i can easily convince myself that i am there, too. Maybe this is how life really works?