Britta's Letters from her life divided between city-life in German's capital Berlin and life in a Bavarian village
Showing posts with label Botanical Garden Berlin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Botanical Garden Berlin. Show all posts

Thursday 10 August 2017

The Quest for Beauty

©Brigitta Huegel
Dear You,

when I took this photograph in the Botanical Garden in Berlin, I was a bit agitated because a guard of the museum had behaved very, very strange. 

Now Beauty is a wonderful device for me to calm down. 
I loved the clear white of the waterlilies. 
Took a few more pictures of them - and only now, at home, I saw, that Beauty was not alone. 

©Brigitta Huegel

Not everybody is endowed with beauty - (though, as we all know, beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, and maybe the frog here is King of the Pond, and every female frog crazy about him and the deep croaking sound of his ballooned cheeks ) - so the ugly does persue beauty intensely, and tries everything to possess it - look at the waterlily above, up in the left corner! 

©Brigitta Huegel

Well, I walked on, searching for perfection. 

I was not alone: 

©Brigitta Huegel




Tuesday 23 April 2013

"Spring lets 'his' blue ribbon..."

Britta Huegel

I can't believe it - this photo was taken by a friend of mine in the Botanical Garden in Berlin - exactly two weeks ago!! 
You see: there I am still wearing a thick coat (Alpaka - for those who might be on the way to catch their spray cans to protest against fur!) - and the huge model of a magnolia is artistically made from paper. 

Now another artist - Spring himself -  is at work. It's Real Life now, flowery scents lure and awake the senses, cool silken petals from blossoms touch gently the skin, sunbeams tease, off with that coat, no need to hold back - no glass pane between me and Life - 
you're welcome.  

Here my rough translation of Eduard Mörike's famous spring poem, written in 1892 (in German, "spring" is male)  

It Is Spring 
                                                                  
Spring lets his blue ribbon 
Flutter through the air again, 
Sweet, well-remembered scents 
Touch light and hazily the ground. 
Already sweet violets are dreaming, 
Soon they will come.  
Listen - from far away the faint sound of a harp! 
Spring - yes, it is you! 
I hear you coming