View of the Havel from Grunewald

Up here, time stands differently. Not still – but thoughtful. The trees know it, the bench knows it, and those sitting here feel it too: The Grunewald forest looks down on the Havel, like an old friend who no longer has anything to prove.The pine trunks lean into the wind, gnarled, a little crooked, with poise. Between them, the blue of the water flickers, filtered through the branches that still hold back in spring. The view stretches far – all the way to the other bank, where boats drag small scars into the light.And there is this bench. Not a place of haste, but an offering. Those who take a seat here need do nothing more than breathe, look, listen. You hear the whisper of the needles, the quiet crackling in the undergrowth, and somewhere deep below, the gurgling of a ship that never becomes visible.It's not a spectacular viewpoint, not an Instagram hotspot – but a place for what's often neglected in the noise of the world: a thought, a deep breath, a moment for yourself.The Grunewald doesn't boast. It waits. And sometimes, if you stay long enough, it even says something. Very quietly.

Also a large space with a view over the Havel, here with shelter