Towards the final week of February, I heard the sound and caught a glimpse of the church caretaker (the Messner), a pious East-German man, clearing the dried fallen leaves that had carpeted the premises.

With each swish of his broom, it seemed like winter was being erased. I saw a giant transparent plastic bag stuffed with the remains. The two vestigial blocks of piled ice near the entrance to the church had melted away, too.