Colours

Santa Fe, New Mexico, was a joyful surprise. In spite of the heavy rains fearing we might need Noah’s Ark again, the place looked vibrant with colour. The adobe houses even more deeply coloured when wet, a striking contrast with the dark pines and the aspen, yellow in their autumn finery.

Brightly painted pillars of a museum

A painting of the aspen

Colourful clothes made from Chinese kimono's

It is a town and probably a State so different from the Northern clime. In the centre, around the Plaza, I inspected the many shops selling Indian artifacts, beautifully decorated pots with geometrical patterns, all hand made by the native population often still living in pueblos, silver and aqua coloured jewelry, stunning necklaces, but heavy looking and better suited for bigger women I think. Just as well as they were expensive, as were all the shops around the Plaza, except for the souvenir shops. Most shop owners offered me a considerable discounts, which made ma e wonder how much profit they make, profits for the middle man and not for the artists!

Canyon Road is the place for all the galleries and artists’ studios. It is located away from the central pedestrian shopping area. Early in the morning it was still quiet which was lovely. We walked around and up the road, admiring the bronze statues of animals and children, bigger than life, the many mobiles or wind features on long poles meant for gardens, and then of course the art displayed in the galleries. 

Everything was brightly coloured, in lemony yellows, lipstick red, cobalt blue, just leaping off the canvas. Unfortunately the gallery owners were not artists themselves, but in one of the smaller studios I was lucky and found an artist at work who did not mind having his photo taken when I asked.

Below: some paintings of the artist we see here at work

 

And of course it was cowboys and Indians, shops with handmade cowboy boots, in different patterns and colours, very striking and very artistic. In one of those shops the man in charge or owner told me he just designed the boots and they were made elsewhere by hand. A pair of simple boots might start at $500, but usually the ones made to measure would cost from $1250 upwards. And most boots would be made to measure. He offered me a pair of Cowboy slippers for $300! Noisy slippers at that. The woollen horse blankets in traditional patterns were another expensive attraction.

Some artists specialized in painting Native people, chiefs in full regalia, proud and weather beaten. Quite a few of the artists were Native people themselves.

We ended up at the top of the road, in a teashop with some 200 (!) varieties of teas. I never knew if they gave me the one I had chosen, as it was unknown to me and the waiter mixed up some orders. It had a chocolaty flavor, pretty unusual.

Glass flowers

 

A trip down memory lane

When I was a small child, in the time parents did not ferry their children to and from school, but they were shown the way and had to walk, I walked for two hours every day. School was from 9-12 and from 2-4. As it was a distance of 30 minutes for our still short legs, this meant we had one hour for lunch at home. My father would cycle back from work to have lunch at home as well.  It was a time when there were so few cars that we could count them, or at least the red cars we saw on our walk. A group of children coming from different directions would meet in a square, and from there we would walk together. Our route went through a very nice and leafy residential area. Nevertheless, it could at times be boring, especially in winter. But one of my fellow hikers, Jan Glas, was a very creative and imaginative story teller who kept us spell bound by his tall stories. Of course we believed them – and him. His father was the hero, who had fought with very dangerous boa constrictors, lions and elephants in the bush. Our knowledge was too limited to realise that some of those fear inspiring animals do not share the same habitat. But his stories made our walk a lot shorter and far less boring. Although later I learned that his father had never travelled abroad, the stories were still magical and it did not spoil the fun.

 I don't remember the play area in front of the school

 The "new" school and the view from the classrooms towards the woods

The view seems the same after all those years

So I wasn’t surprised when some years ago I discovered that Jan, whom I had completely lost touch with after primary school, had been writing several novels of adventure. This time, they were more realistic and described many aspects of his life and his hobbies. As a technician, a  man of science, a man interested in the two world wars which had raged through Europe, a man interested in aircraft and everything to do with flying, as well as a keen mountaineer in his spare time, he has written a series of novels with all those aspects in them. I learned he was widowed and childless, which was similar to my own state in life. I too started writing after being widowed. We shared the same past, the same primary schools, and were class mates. So today we met as I was interested what started off his writing and how he did/does it. We met in a restaurant in the dunes, battered by sea winds, baked by the sun. After almost a whole lifetime there were so many similarities, so many things which we both had gone through.  We exchanged our own books, and after an exchange over lunch of our past and past experiences, we drove off to one of our primary schools. It was a school which was brand new when we became pupils, and such a relief after our first school, the one which we walked to and which probably built up our physical strength and our love of hiking. That first school was old and had dreary corridors and high windows which prevented us from seeing much except the sky. The new school had very wide windows, picture windows in fact, and the class rooms were sunny and bright. Each class had its own small library at the back of the classroom and I loved the serenity of the place, the light, the sun coming in through the windows. In the first school I had felt a prisoner, in this new school I felt liberated.

 The modernised playground between the school and the church at the back of the school. Quite an improvement on what is was when I was young.

Well, today we went back. The school has been extended, it looks the same but is far more modern inside. A wing has been added to it, there is now a library, there are rooms where one can relax in nice chairs and cosy corners, and all the school boards are digital to mention just a few changes. We met the caretaker as the school was being redecorated during the two week spring holiday, and thus open. The caretaker, a former pupil as well, was interested in our story and allowed us to go inside and look around at leisure. He was our guide, but also left us to explore things on our own. The view from the school and my former classrooms was still the same. In fact, a kind of peace filled me. The sun was out, although it was a very cold spring day. But the houses were the same and looked so familiar. I had lived in this area and in the next street for so many years. The windows of the school still had this attractive view. A view of budding and flowering trees, of wide streets with little traffic, of big front gardens and houses sheltering under red tiled roofs.

 Some more pictures taken by the caretaker of the school, also a former pupil

 Jan Glas and I, former classmates

Behind the school was the church which our parents were so proud to have been able to finance with all the other members of the congregation. At that time, in 1954, it seemed quite luxurious and spacious. It had a basement with a kitchen and rooms for meetings, parties and other functions. After having our church services in the gym hall of an old primary school, at last we had our own church with a custom built, modern pipe organ! Fortunately the church is still there, although much closer to the school than I remember. It now belongs to another church denomination, but at least it is still used as a church. It looked simple, with the original wooden pews, but still functional, clean and modern. Before the church was built, I had an allotment there. They were school allotments, where we learned to sow and harvest potatoes, watercress and carrots, as well as flowers.

A for us new area in the school where pupils can "chill".

Not much seemed changed since the school and the church were built, quite remarkable in an area where change is the order of the day.

We said goodbye, wishing that we could meet with more of our former fellow pupils, if still among the living. But we also realised some no longer were, and even quite a few had emigrated to the USA and Canada.

1954-1955, Willem de Zwijgerschool

I am sitting next to the window and the central heating at the front desk with the round face and the straight hair, Jan is sitting left at the front desk in the second row, wearing a striped sweater.

  

Spring

A sunny day with a cold wind, typical for a Dutch Spring. The light is different in spring and everything seems very clear and bright. The trees are still bare, which means that special spring flowers bloom under the tree trunks and in the woods. They need the sun, and so they only flower when the trees are not in leaf yet. 

 The mirror lakes with "De Heerlijckheit Dyckenburch" in the background

Dijkenburg is for sale if you can spare Euro 6 million!

Dijkenburg in late spring. From the website of the real estate agents

I went for a walk in a small park, Klein Leeuwenhorst, not far from the sea and the dunes. In this area, on the border of sand banks or dunes and low moor land, in former centuries many mansions were built for the rich, to escape the noise of the towns and cities and enjoy fresh air. Some of those big houses were already destroyed in the 19^th century, others in the second world war by the Germans who made this area part of the Atlantic wall, changing decorative ponds into anti tank canals. Many grand estates were ruined by the expanding towns and cities, by the many new roads which cut estates into two. But a few were restored in the 1980-ies or even later. Nowadays we try to preserve whatever we have. This wood has been returned to its former state when it was part of an estate. Nevertheless it is enclosed by minor roads, which have cut off some of the buildings and houses belonging together and which are part of the same estate. A nature preservation organisation now owns this park or piece of woodland and has restored the English landscaped part of this estate. 

 Daffodils

 Celandine

 

Daffodils were in fool bloom, dancing in the wind. Yellow celandine looked like specks of gold amongst the brown beech leaves.

Former stables, now a house, once part of the estate

Rijswijk

A visit to Rijswijk, to the local museum, on a very cold and windy day: a perfect day for a museum visit. 

 

Most churches in Holland are locked during the week, especially in winter. But to my delight the “Oude Kerk”, the historic church, was open because cleaners were inside polishing the woodwork and washing the floors. I had never been inside, and was surprised by the wooden ceiling, a barrel vault, which was beautifully decorated. It reminded me of the “Oude Kerk” in Naarden, which has a similar ceiling, although there the paintings on one side tell the story of the Old Testament of the Bible and on the other side of the New Testament.  Of course no lights were on, so the pictures of the big organ and of the choir are not that wonderful. But I was happy to be able to see this church. What was also unusual and which I have never seen before was the decorative woodwork over some of the doors.

 

Although it was cold, the grass around the church was dotted with colourful crocuses, which unfortunately decided it was too cold to open their petals. Still, a sure sign of spring!

Beautiful decorations over the doors

 

The museum was quite interesting. Apart from a photo exhibition about Rijswijk from 1895 -1920, there was an exhibition about crowns and royal headgear throughout the world, and an amazing exhibition of cut out flowers and trees made from paper and other materials, by the artists Marian Smit & Maurice van Meijel .

 Fascinating paper art

 Paper leaves, trees and flowers

 And a very delicate wall hanging

We spent more time than anticipated in the museum, and in some of the local shops, which was fine. So next week we intend to visit the companion exposition about crowns in Schoonhoven, which is the ‘Silver Town’ of Holland. We had better leave our wallets at home.

The church seen through one of the windows of the local museum