Description

A mother writes to her eleven‑year‑old son from a summer night in the high mountains, where the scent of linden and the silver‑shimmer of moonlit peaks stir memories of her own childhood. She describes the same towering rocks and the diary she has kept since youth, a plain record that has shaped her understanding of each day’s “Soll und Haben.” The letter blends the intimacy of family love with the quiet awe of a landscape that has witnessed generations.

Leaving the bustle of Berlin’s factories, she returns to the secluded family estate and carries thirty‑two volumes of her journal, intent on taking stock of a life lived between duty and conviction. As she pauses on a steep path, she feels the weight of accusations from those who call her “fahnenflüchtig,” yet she is determined to trace the roots of her existence for the sake of the boy who will become a man. The opening sets a tone of reflective rebellion, inviting listeners into a world where personal history, politics, and the enduring pull of the mountains intertwine.

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