Winter is beginning to thaw here in Berlin. I first realized this a few weeks ago when I looked out the window at 3:30 pm and saw that it was still light outside. I was floored when, an hour later, it was still daytime. For all the times that have felt never-ending and Sisyphean these last few months in various stages of lockdown, it’s comforting to know that at least spring is still going to happen.

This was the first warmer, sunnier weekend of the year, and the city responded in kind. There were people, people, more people than I’ve seen in a while, out and about, on the street, just walking around. Max and I realized we’d missed the BYOW memo after walking past the fifth group with wine glasses and libations in hand (this is Charlottenburg, after all).

I think the coronavirus has turned many of us into flaneurs, and I do include myself here even though I don’t usually leave the house on weekdays. With restaurants and most shops still closed, there is no place to get to anymore. The goal of leaving the house is not necessarily to reach a destination, as it might have been before. Rather, it’s the going part and the little observations along the way that have become exceedingly meaningful.

Some moments from this weekend

I took Friday off work. I biked to Neukölln to meet Emma because it was moderately sunny and warm that day. There’s a nice bike path in Tiergarten that runs parallel to Straße des 17. Juni, but instead of being right next to the cars and the road, you’re surrounded by trees and green. There are creeks and other small bodies of water near the path, and they were all still semi-frozen from the storm and sub-zero (Celsius) temperatures that covered Berlin in powdery snow and turned the lakes into ice. I hadn’t gone out the day everyone went skating on the Landwehrkanal. So when I saw this frozen creek, I felt remorse for having missed out on a collective, city-wide winter play day. I am so annoyed that even in lockdown I still have FOMO!

It doesn’t feel like I live in any particular place because I rarely leave my home. I think isolation plus the fact that much of our lives is virtual these days makes it feel like we’re all just floating in pods around each other. Biking through Berlin reminded me of how much I’ve missed the city and people, and that I do in fact live here.

With my first cone of 2021 from our local ice cream shop—two scoops, dark chocolate and strawberry!!—I walked past two toddlers in strollers, who then immediately got jealous and whose mothers quickly rolled them away. I heard the longing and increasingly distant calls of “Eis…. Eis…” and admittedly, perhaps also evilly, I did laugh.

It’s ok, kid. In twenty years, you can do whatever you want, be your own person, and get your own Eis. Just like me!