The last sun­shine we had was on Decem­ber 30^th – but it las­ted for only two hours. Since then, Ber­lin has seen the grey, dark and rainy winter it is notori­ous for. There’s no end in sight. When yes­ter­day I was rid­ing the bus and day­dream­ing about the sun­shine Mar­cus brought with him (alas, only in pic­tures from far and exotic islands), I noticed a vague gleam­ing behind the rain­drop covered win­dow: Could that be the long awaited sun?

As it turned out, it wasn’t the mir­acle I hoped for but the iri­des­cent white tarp that covered a con­struc­tion site so big, its sheen was bright enough to bring some light into that grey and rainy day. It’s sur­face gently waved in a soft breeze that blew small ripples run­ning from one side to the other, pick­ing up speed and ebbing away. But it was not only an ordin­ary build­ing covered in tarp, but actu­ally the whole block where one part of the big Deutsche Bank build­ing com­plex was hid­den behind sil­very shim­mer­ing tarp.

I was glad to have my cam­era with me, so I got off the bus to explore this neatly pack­aged build­ing. It could’ve been Christo’s latest coup – at least that came to mind, since he and his wife once wrapped Reich­stag in a feat most Ber­liners still remem­ber vividly. How­ever, in this case, con­struc­tion work­ers did the pack­aging. One of them was obvi­ously puzzled that I was tak­ing so many pho­tos of an ordin­ary tape. It must’ve seem strange to him that I could be inter­ested in a thing so mundane such as a con­struc­tion site. Whether there were any com­plaints, he asked. Why, no, of course not. Everything was fine for me.