Dahinten in der Haide: Roman

In the sun‑warmed hills of the Haide, the novel opens with Lüder Volkmann reclining against a weathered stone, inhaling the scent of birch leaves and distant fields. His thoughts drift between the gentle song of a nightingale and vivid memories of bustling Berlin soirées, where poets in old coats sparred with wit over oysters and champagne. Through his eyes, the story paints a lively portrait of rural life tinged with the restless yearning of a man who has roamed from the American plains back to his native German countryside.

Volkmann’s humor and bravado, forged in far‑off taverns and wartime voyages, clash with the quiet dignity of the local aristocracy and the simple rhythms of the countryside. As he navigates old friendships, lingering homesickness, and the expectations of a society in transition, the narrative balances affectionate nature description with a subtle critique of pretension. Listeners will be drawn into a world where the rustle of leaves, the echo of old songs, and the lingering taste of distant adventures intertwine, inviting reflection on identity, belonging, and the timeless pull of home.