Today we went to my dad's childhood town, Ebenhofen, located in Southern Germany. It is a very small village that has not changed much since he left in the 50s. The homes are made of white stone with red roofs and every window has a window box filled with pink or red geraniums. The Alps recede into the background barely seen through the haze of the clouds. It feels like we have stepped into the pages of a storybook.
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