Lock-down 29, Whitsun

Whitsun, May 31st 2020

The beginning of a new week, of a new chapter. Or perhaps the culmination of a positive week. In spite of the churches still being closed, it has indeed been Pentecost for me. I listened to the service recorded by our own church, with former members of the congregation who are now spread all over the world, reading Bible passages, prayers, and other parts of the service, from Canada, Great Britain, Cambodia to mention a few places. This is the true spirit of Pentecost, the connection between all of us through the Spirit. The sermon too was worth listening to and pondering over, and I joined in the singing. To top it all, in the afternoon I sang some hymns in church with a few other choir members for the service of next week. In the morning I watched the service from Hereford Cathedral, and joined in the singing as well. It has been a happy day so far.

In fact, the end of a happy week. I got unexpected visitors, which was a great joy. Friends phoned me, I went out with a another friend, bought food in the farmers’ market in a nearby village, stocked up on British tea and cider, trimmed the hedge between my garden and that of my neighbours which gave me great satisfaction, and got a visit from my stepdaughter with her 25 year old daughter, which was a fantastic surprise. We had delicious cake which they brought with them to celebrate my stepdaughter’s birthday. The weather was beautiful, so we enjoyed it in the garden, the daughter making the tea and pouring it. It was a luxury to have somebody to quietly take things in hand. I could sit down and enjoy the cake and the tea. She has grown into such a nice young woman. She just got her MA, and will be 25 this month. Of course she had great plans to celebrate the two occasions, but unfortunately this can’t be as we are still restricted by the 1,5-meter rule, and to only a limited number of people.

One of our longstanding choir members got married, but we could not sing for her nor be there to celebrate with her. Nevertheless, she looks radiant in the pictures. We would have sung for her, if only…

Sitting in my garden I heard a thud against the window pane and saw that a small bird, a fledgling, had flown against it. I took it in my cupped hands, hoping it was just dizzy and would be fine, but alas, its neck was broken and it quickly died. I stroked its perfectly formed wings, its feathers, so modest but such a work of art. It made me sad for every creature and flower which has to die prematurely, and I cradled it like a tiny baby. It weighed next to nothing.

 An abundance of roses, and this week saw the first waterlilies

So there is a new week ahead of us, a week with widening possibilities as the cafes, museums and restaurants will open at last, be it only for a restricted number of people. Pre booking is necessary, and in case of a museum booking a time slot. But nevertheless, there is hope again. Mid-June church services will resume, also with many restrictions and no singing of the congregation. If there is no new outbreak of the virus, perhaps those restrictions will be lifted soon.

Pentecost has not only given us the Spirit, but also new hope.

 some of the roses

Lock-down 27 Some more freedom

May 25th

An unusual week, if any week has been normal since March 15^th!

Today, at the end of this week, or the beginning of a new one, I felt very sad, because I listened to the beautiful Evensong sung by my own church choir, but without me. I feel robbed of the things which matter, the choir, church music and the church. Being single and living alone, I lack contact with real people. Others have families, partners, a job. I am retired and have no partner and no children. But what keeps me going, is the church and the choir. I so longed to be part of this Evensong, of which I know the music by heart. I sang the alto part listening to it, with sadness in my heart. When will this come back, and will I be allowed to take part in the choir when services start again? Only a few choir members are allowed to sing at the services, and it would be heart-breaking just to sit in church, - if I am allowed in at all, - and not be allowed to join the choir members.

On the positive side, I have contact again with a brother and his wife, which is wonderful. We have grown apart, especially since the death of our father, and there have been so many misunderstandings between us. Why? I visited them while they were staying nearby in their campervan, and on their way home they paid me a visit in return, which was a very welcome surprise. And I was hugged by them, the first time in months that I had any form of physical contact, and that by family members I had not seen for nearly two years! I did not choose to be a nun or a hermit, so I need normal contact with people in the flesh, not people on screen. That is fine, and a blessing under the given circumstances, but not enough. And a hermit or saint may have people visiting, asking for a blessing or advice. This is like a prison sentence.

We have been robbed of all our important Christian feast days as well, Palm Sunday, Good Friday and Holy Week, Easter, Ascension Day this past week, and even at Whitsun the churches won’t be open yet, but the day after. Why not one day earlier? Isn’t it normal that in times of pandemics people turn to the church for support? They have done so through the ages. Our next feast will be Advent. Is it really true that church services are sources of infection? Even when all precautions are taken and only a limited number of people may attend? Football is allowed, but no church services, concerts, theatres etc. Museums will open, but with many restrictions. Once the churches open, singing is not allowed except by a few choir members at a time. How can people function like that? After almost three months of intelligent lock-down, I think I am giving up.

 Reflection of the blue sky in the water

Fortunately I went out for a three hour walk in an estate with a friend, another chorister. The park was quiet, and lovely. It is quite varied, with fields, copses, wooded areas, farms and cows in the lush meadows, geese with many ducklings sheltering in areas reserved as bird sanctuaries. There is a narrow dike, single track, just wide enough for one person, with ditches on both sides. The verges were full of wild flowers, purple, yellow, white and blue. It was a feast I haven’t seen since my childhood.  We did not meet any people coming towards us which was just as well as the track is too narrow for social distancing. At the end of the path we saw a notice saying it was a one-way path! Just as well we started at the correct end by chance.

 Below: a forbidden gate to one of the fields

Sharing a walk, a meal, and coffee out in the garden at a suitable distance was a real joy.

GP’s also practice again, but visiting them or consulting them is fraught with impediments. So was a visit to the dentist, where I really needed the facilities but wasn’t allowed to as they are closed for the time being. So I said that in that case I would make another appointment and go home, which the receptionist thought maybe wasn’t a good idea. In the end she relented, but I had to swear total secrecy! As if I had any inclination or urge to tell anyone. The urge was a different one!

The visit to the hearing specialist was a more relaxed event. And although I stayed there for one hour and a half, there was no tension whatsoever, just cleaning my hands and after that we did not mention the C word at all.

To cheer myself up, I looked at the fresh and happy pictures of our walk in Wassenaar, at the bright colours and the blue sky. Life can only get better.

Even a dead tree can be attractive

Lock down 26, some restrictions have been lifted

Sunday May 17th

Another week has passed in which the weather turned suddenly very cold, with temperatures dropping some 15 degrees from Sunday into Monday. A strong wind from the North made it very unpleasant. Such a contrast with the warm week we had enjoyed. We hoped that would never end and seamlessly glide into summer, although, living where we do, we know that that is extremely unlikely.

But at least the week helped me to tackle a task I had contemplated for months and never got round to doing, that is changing the furniture in my sewing room which is full of book cases stuffed with sheet music, cd’s, records (yes, the old vinyl!), magazines, books about hobbies, sewing patterns and materials, patchwork in statu nascendi, stories I have written, books about writing, old photo albums etc. etc. Moving three heavy bookcases stuffed to the hilt from one wall to the opposite wall, takes time and muscle power, and implies eating dust! Every case had to be emptied out, cleaned, sorted, and then moved to its allocated spot. And they are heavy, even when empty. Before that could happen, I had to move a desk from out of that sewing room to a temporary spot in another room before I could do anything. Whatever, after a lot of dust, clearing out, getting rid of paper in different forms and sizes, and protesting muscles, I managed to do it! I feel very virtuous about it, as well as delighted. For the result is much better than I had anticipated. And it gives a lot of satisfaction that I could manage most things without much help from others, which is a must in this time of social lock down. Even before the empty wall was painted, it already looked very good indeed. Tomorrow the desk will be moved to that bright and light wall, with the help of a niece with muscles, as I can’t handle that on my own. It is made of solid pine.

I tried to paint the wall, although it still looked pristine, but it is what one does. However, it wasn’t a success and I stopped after I had finished 2/3 of the wall. Was it because the paint was too old? I discovered that the wall was papered with two different kinds of wall paper, apparently remnants from other rooms. As the wallpaper was always painted over, I had never noticed. But it became obvious when I started repainting. Part of the wall was fine and easy to paint, but once I came to the different wallpaper, the paper became very bubbly. I was terrified that they would not disappear after the paint had dried sufficiently, so I stopped and left a third of the wall unpainted. There is a slight difference in colour, but I decided not to bother as my desk will be against that wall anyway, plus a shelf with photos and other trinkets. So I decided to live with the result, which isn’t perfect.

This whole procedure kept me busy this past week.

 

 

Besides, our intelligent lock down, whatever that means, has partly been lifted. Dentists, hairdressers and several health workers are allowed to work again. Gone is my Coupe Corona, hopefully never to return. Although seeing a dentist and my hearing aid specialist is fraught with complications, I saw them both. Before seeing a dentist etc., a patient has to answer a lot of questions about one’s health and in the case of the dentist my temperature was even taken on entering the surgery. Handgel has to be used and in the waiting room, places are allocated and very much spaced out.

But it was an exciting week, meeting real human beings, although not allowed to shake hands or to come too close. In the case of the hairdresser and the dentist the latter is an impossible condition.

 

 

 

 

After such a special week, meeting real people and not virtual ones, I went for a long afternoon walk today, to enjoy the bounty of Spring. The rhododendrons are now in full bloom everywhere, maythorns, lilacs, other shrubs, large chestnut trees with their white and red flowers, they are all a feast for the eyes. The wild garlic still carpets the floor of the woods in places with its white flowers. The little ditches and streams are laced with horse parsley, interspersed with buttercups and tiny porcelain blue flowers. In a garden we would perhaps see them as weeds, but who decides what is a weed and what isn’t? They are beautiful and lifted my mood and my spirit.

 

 

 

 Constable in a Dutch urban area

 

And the week was crowned with a Zoom meeting of choir members. Not a meeting in the flesh, but at least some form of contact.

I have added some pictures which I took with my phone on my two-hour walk.

 

 

 

Lock-down 25, Gardens and Sunsets

Saturday 09-05

An interesting week. At least, I made it interesting, as it was such a glorious week. Nature begged me to go outside, to enjoy and admire its beauty: the blossoming cherry trees, the different shades of green of the young leaves, the fascinating sunsets followed by a bright orange sky, gradually turning into salmon and then mauve.  The supermoon, bright, big and full, and every night Venus as bright as I have hardly ever seen her, almost unreal. Of course, I can enjoy a lot of that by just staying put in my garden, reading a book or working in it, tidying it. However, I think this period of lock-down gives us so little stimulus, that I really had to go out.

Not to feel guilty – the garden needed it! - I went to a nursery in Boskoop, a wonderful place, consisting of lots of islands, crossed by canals. The soil is very good for shrubs like azaleas and rhododendrons. Since my neighbours have uprooted and got rid of all the shrubs which formed the partition between their front garden and mine, and replaced their plants and trees with a trampoline surrounded by artificial grass, I looked out on this playground and wanted some colourful evergreens to block that view.

This nursery is vast, and divided into different zones. There are no pots, pans, garden furniture, trinkets one could do without, just very healthy and often unusual plants. The main attraction for me are the acers. They have the largest and most varied collection of acers in Europe, the first acer which started it all a small seed from Von Siebold who had taken interesting plants from the Far East to Leyden, to the Hortus, the University garden. By some complicated connection, an acer also landed in Boskoop and was the beginning of this stunning acer garden. I have three acers in my garden. The one I most cherish is an acer purpureum dissectum which I bought as a small plant in 1983 when we designed, built and planted the garden. 

 1983. Standing high on a slim stem in the top corner is the acer, which I just planted

The same acer in 2020. The other plants I had to plant somewhere else. except for one lilac azalea on the left. Now overshadowed by the acer. But it blooms before the acer has leaves.

All the plants I bought in Boskoop at this nursery, Esveld, have done very well indeed. The acer has grown far too big for this garden, but I can’t prune it or get rid of it, it is far too beautiful. In Boskoop they have many mature acers. An acer half the size of mine cost €450! Which means mine might be worth €1000 by now. But the value is not what I am interested in. It is the colour, bright red in autumn, and in spring with equally red tiny flowers hanging under the leaves. It is its bare shape in winter, which reminds me of fairy tales, with its crooked branches. Nothing grows beneath it, and the other shrubs I planted at the same time had to be moved to some other spot. Next to it, in another section, is a magnolia stellata, also too big now, and embracing the acer with its branches. 

I came home with two modest azaleas or rhododendrons, and planted them the next day. The colours are very vibrant, but I think I have to go back to buy something with more height.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The whole visit was inspired by an afternoon visit the day before to Clingendael, a park or estate in The Hague which stretches all the way to Wassenaar. A Japanese garden is hidden in a corner, normally open to the public at this time of the year, but this year closed because of our lock-down. I tried to get a glimpse of the lipstick red bridge, a focal point, but it came out too vague. When entering Clingendael, immediately to the right begins a path through a wall of azaleas in the most brazen colours, luminescent yellow, bright orange, pinks and mauves, whites, reds, all mixed in a riot of what fashionistas would think of as clashing colours. The spicy smells are intoxicating and pungent. It is a wonderful entrance to the rest of the park which is planted with rhododendrons, many very old and towering over me. The paths going through it are straight, but nevertheless it is easy to lose one’s way. A bit further on are fields and lawns, some hilly parts which are part of what is left of the dunes, beech trees sprouting dark red and yellow green leaves, ponds and small lakes, connected by a canal which is what is left of a canal the Germans built in WWII as an anti-tank device. It is now rather decorative, and spanned with attractive white bridges. There is also a formal Dutch garden, designed by one of the last owners of the manor house, Huize Clingendael, which now houses the Netherlands Institute of International Relations.  In one field sheep are grazing, and normally honey from the bees here is for sale. You can buy a pot and hand in a glass jar in return. Just a pity everything is closed at present, as well as the nice little teashop.

 

 

Yesterday I went to the beach towards the evening, to see the sunset, as the sunsets have been glorious of late, and see the super moon. And I wanted to test the tele lens of my new camera, which has a sun visor, ideal for sunsets. The sun doesn’t set till 9.15 pm. It is obvious that the longest day is not far away. I went for a walk along the beach, and wasn’t the only one. Still, it was very peaceful, and I aimed at being back near the boulevard at sunset. Usually gulls are very busy in the evenings just before they settle down for the night, huddled together in groups facing in the same direction. This time there was a group of common terns, which I had never seen here ‘at work’. It was great to see them flying very fast and expertly low over the breaking waves, plunge-diving at great speed to catch fish, like a stone dropping straight down. Against the setting sun and the orange sky it was a fascinating spectacle.

 

 

This morning I went to a glass house nearby where they sell garden plants in May and June, pot plants for the garden, and bags of compost and potting soil. The plants are healthy, and there is no need to go through all the stuff which is on display nowadays in a garden centre. I think there are too many people milling around in the garden centres as it is one of the few things one can do. I bought pot plants and potting soil, and worked in the front garden all afternoon. It faces north, so I only potter around there if the weather is warm, and if there is no wind. That seldom happens, but today was the day! A Saturday, but if I do not look in my diary, I wouldn’t have known. These days all days are alike, even the Sundays now that churches are closed and choirs forbidden. The front garden is covered in the white lace of flowering wild garlic, reminding me of the white dots of foam along the beach. This plant just showed up one spring and enjoys itself so much here that it multiplies while I am looking and has decided never to leave this spot again.

Wild garlic. Not a very representative picture.

As far as our lock-down is concerned, this week showed us also some light at the end of the tunnel. From Monday on the hairdressers are allowed to open, as well as the dentists, so Monday is the big day: away with my coupe Corona!

I was a bit taken aback when the dentist’s office called me asking if I was healthy, didn‘t cough, had no high temperature etc, etc. They added that they had to be careful because I belonged to the high-risk group. Just because of my age! I was amazed, I use no medication whatsoever, have no underlying condition I know of, and no problems so many people my age suffer from. I am fortunate that way. I suppose it is what they have to ask under the circumstances and that it is standard procedure.

It will be a week full of excitement! After so many weeks of lock-down and nothing much happening, even a visit to the hairdresser and the dentist is an adventure to look forward to.  Isn’t that sad!