Good morning Kreuzberg: Questions I ask myself at 7 a.m

Suddenly all the ducks start laughing on the banks of the pond in Berlin's Hasenheide Park. The swans move in a triangular formation through the fog, which is still hovering over the surface of the water at seven in the morning. Are they being laughed at?

A man pushes his bike along the wooden walkway and looks through the branches. Maybe he, like me, is waiting for the birds and the squirrels to come. Or is he counting the leaves that have already turned yellow?

Another man, with a beret and mustache, looks out over a lawn next to a trash can. He has his hands clasped together behind his back. As I walk closer to him, I see that he is looking for something among the clovers. Maybe a four-leaf one? And if so, why does he need happiness today?

Then I take the path that leads to Café Blume. And as always, when I pass the group of dead tree trunks, I wonder if anyone else is confusing them with sleeping dinosaurs.

There is a hand-painted sign hanging on the traffic light opposite the Columbiabad: a bunny with the saying “Sweet bunnies choose left” underneath. Did the same person also hang up the hand-drawn explanation about the June beetles on Tempelhofer Feld in the summer?

As soon as I reach Tempelhofer Feld, all the cyclists seem to be in a hurry and stressed. Are you on your way to work? Are they giving me dirty looks because I'm breathing too loudly?

My running route almost ends at the entrance to the job center on Mainzer Straße. As always, there are groups of people standing in front of the door, smoking and chatting. Are these employees? And is smoking one of the employment requirements?

Finally, as I walk up the stairs, I ask myself if today is a special day. Or am I already missing so much every morning while I'm still sleeping?