Yesterday, all of a sudden, we experienced the first
day of spring! On Sunday it was still cold and grey. And the nights are still very
cold indeed. Monday morning the sun miraculously rose in a cloudless sky and
shone on us all day long, as it has today. So I tackled the garden and first
did the things I do not really enjoy doing: pruning the roses which have fierce
thorns, the ramblers and the wild wysteria. Now is the time, for they are not
in leaf yet. Once they are, it is a tangle and I wouldn't know where to begin.
I feel very virtuous indeed, for I also cleaned the pond and took out a lot of oxygen
plants, which are marvellous to keep the water clear, but they are very enthusiastic
growers and in no time convert the pond into a bog. So before the frogs come
back and deposit their spawn on the plants after a few weeks of wild orgies and
indiscriminate coupling, I needed to take a lot of aquatic plants out. I feel
like a true farmer, who has this duty to clean ditches twice a year. Well, I
did it!
Meanwhile the botanic crocuses in the garden had their
delicate lilac and blue petals wide open to the sun. They reproduce themselves,
so there are more every year which is a joy to the eye. After the snowdrops and
the hellebores, they are the first colourful promises of spring.
It is amazing that only two weeks ago this is what my windows looked like: covered in black ice!
March, the
month of Spring, of new hopes. The days have been lengthening, the birds are
singing early in the morning, bulbs tentatively pop their spiky leaves through
the topsoil, ready to close up and withdraw as soon as the weather turns nasty again.
The helleborus has been in bloom for several weeks now. Amazingly they drop
their heads and look wilted and dead when the temperature drops below zero
again. But as soon as the weather picks up, they raise their heads and their
petals which seem so delicate are totally undamaged. I have to prune my roses
and ramblers before they bud, and prepare the garden for spring, as it is still
waiting to be made ready for winter. At least that means it has been well protected
throughout the very cold periods which we have had.
Although I
haven't posted much since mid-January, it doesn't mean nothing has happened. We
have enjoyed a wonderful spell of frost. Canals and lakes were frozen over and
the winter scenes with people skating on the ice of lakes and canals, the small
makeshift stalls selling piping hot pea soup, chocolate milk and coffee,
reminded me of paintings from the Golden Age, the only difference being that
people nowadays are dressed differently. At that time there was no special
clothing for outdoor sports. Women would skate in nice, wide long skirts, very
elegant indeed. Nowadays our wardrobes carry a different outfit for each sport.
There was also ice sailing. With enough wind those sailing- boats-on-skates can
fly across the ice at a very fast speed, an amazing thing to see.
Below: The frozen Gouwzee at Monnickendam
I had friends
to stay, music to sing, evensongs to take part in or to attend. But the fact is
that every year is just a repeat with variations of the previous year. It is
like a musical composition: each variation, each year seems similar to the
previous one, but nevertheless surprises us in places. The dissonants are
always different, always unexpected, and never in the same place. They stand
out, may disturb a peaceful harmony. It may be illness of people dear to us, a
shocking and most unexpected death, reminding us of our own vulnerability. It
may be an assault or theft of one's dear possessions, which happened to me.
They are things which happen to each and every
one of us, even if we think we are immune. But they shock us out of our
lethargy or false feelings of safety and comfort, in short out of our comfort
zone.
The dark
and cold days of winter are a good time to catch up with things we do not do in
summer, when we, or at least I, spend as much time as possible outdoors. I have
been sorting through pictures, composing travelogues, gone through cupboards
and cleared out stuff I no longer needed or wanted. There is still far too much
stuff left to clutter up the house, alas.
After
Breda, I did go out and explore Zwolle one day, on my free travel pass. I know
Zwolle, but old city centres always have surprising shops. They spring up and
may disappear again, but they are usually special and specialist shops. I
happened on a shop, the "Hanze Huis", which sold products from cities which at one time belonged
to the Hanseatic League, so products from Russia, Germany etc. Liqueurs,
chocolates, teas and coffees, in the most amazing packaging, such as decorated
tins and fake Fabergé eggs. The shop assistants were every bit as colourful as the packaging of their products. Discovering only that shop was well worth the trip,
although we did other things as well. There is a new railway connection between
Lelystad and Zwolle, which I had never been on. However, instead of seeing the
landscape and trying to figure out where exactly we were, I couldn't see a
thing because of the persistent haze which bordered on fog. Bare branches against
the mist may be decorative and artistic, it did not give me a clue as to the
position of the tracks and where we were crossing from the new polders into the
old land – which was through a new tunnel. I did not even notice going through
it! So I will have to repeat the exercise on a sunny day, travelling on beyond
Zwolle for a change.
Below: Some oictures of Zwolle
The only city gate which still exists, the "Sassenpoort", taken from a difficult angle.
Yesterday (Saturday)
I went to Amsterdam in the late afternoon, to the Choral Evensong in the church
of St. Nicholas opposite the railway station, which is celebrated every
Saturday at 17. It is a very imposing
church, and in spite of being in a busy city, inside the noise of trams and
traffic and people is shut out. The choir is very well-trained and sitting
there in that beautiful, spacious church a feeling of peace and joy filled me.
I knew some of the music, had sang it myself, but listening is another matter.
It is amazing that this beautiful and mysterious service is attended so well on
a Saturday afternoon, in a part of Amsterdam with the red light district and
coffee shops on its doorstep. To me it seemed that angels had descended, just
for the 45 minutes the service took, and with their singing filled me with an
inner calm. The song of Mary and the song of Simeon, age old poetic texts which
have lost nothing of their beauty and meaning.
Here is
what the choir sang:
Introit: Purcell, Thou knowest Lord
Office
Hymn: Audi benigne conditor
Psalm: 6
Responses: Ebdon
Canticles: Batten, 1st Verse Service
(Magnificat & Nunc Dimittis)
Anthem:Attwood, Enter not into judgement
Here is Purcell, sung by the choir of King's College Cambridge
