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

Scratch

Nothing more exciting than making or doing something from Scratch. Perhaps that is the reason for the enormous success of the Scratch Festival in Leyden, which takes place annually in February. Perhaps to make this rather dreary month more bearable. Two years ago it celebrated its 25^th anniversary. It has grown from a small one day event to a four day event, run very smoothly by lots of volunteers and some professionals. It began with the Scratch Messiah, and Händel's Messiah is still on the agenda every year. Even twice: there is one for youngsters and one for whoever wants to join in. If I am able to, I sing at least one day with them. Apart from Händel’s Messiah, I have also sung a Mozart programme, a Jenkins Mass and Fauré’s Requiem to mention just a few composers and compositions.

An overview of the choir and the orchestra during the rehearsals

From primitive stands or bleachers without any back rest, and open so that bags and cushions had to be tied to the seats otherwise they would fall a long way down, we now have foldable seats with a back rest. Very comfortable, the disadvantage being the noise they tend to make when some 1000 singers or so stand and forget to gently lift the seat by hand.

 

 Above: part of the stands opposite the organ. The English choir organ is just visible

Below: still life during a tea break

Yesterday I took part in singing the Messiah again after a few years of absence. It was a very enjoyable concert and rehearsal day. A long day, from 9 am till almost 11 pm. Having 1000 singers and some 90 amateur musicians in the orchestra, logistically isn’t an easy task. But it worked. There are always groups of singers from different choirs who have studied the music and enjoy this day together. But even if one just takes part on one’s own, one quickly comes to know one’s neighbouring fellow singers.

 The beautiful and monumental pipe organ which wasn't used. Beneath it the chairs awaiting the audience

Rehearsing

I enjoyed a very pleasant meal between the rehearsals and the concert in the house of friends just some 50 meters from the monumental Pieterskerk.

It is such a privilege to be able to sing. And this is just the beginning of a weekend with lots of singing. Tonight there is the regular choir practice, tomorrow a workshop of a full day, studying and singing early music, and on Sunday the regular contribution to the church service. I couldn’t be happier.  

Waiting for action!

Snow!

In this part of the world it seems more and more exceptional to have snow in winter. So far we just had a sprinkling of snow one day in January. And it was extremely local. In the street where I live everything was covered in a nice layer of snow, giving bare tree branches that delicate lacy look. I went for a walk through the parks in and surrounding our village, and they were splendid. It wasn’t hoar frost as some people suggested, but real snow. When I had to go out in the afternoon, I discovered how local it was! The nearest towns and villages were completely bare, not even one single white speck to be seen. It was peculiarly local, and stayed in this street for several days. Nobody believed us, us being my neighbours and me.

 My garden in January when we had a very local snow fall

 

 A walk in the local parks

 

Friday night however, we had the first – and probably the last – real snow fall. It was magical when I woke up Sunday morning and everything was covered in a thick blanket of pure white and fluffy snow. A pity I had to dig out the car and clear the driveway before being able to go out to sing. But with 12 centimetres of snow and a huge heap of snow blocking the wheels of my car, I could not but disrupt the virginal snow.

 The garden this morning

In the afternoon I went for a long walk in one of the rather varied estates consisting of parks, farmland and wooded areas near my home. Since the estate belongs to the Royal family, fortunately it can’t be turned into housing estates. It forms a beautiful green belt and barrier between two large urban areas. The snow was already melting, but it was still beautiful and special. There is a place where children went tobogganing, but I avoided that and tried to enjoy the quieter fields and paths, the trees with their white linings as well as the fields with flocks of geese and some stray herons. Except for the shrill cries of birds and fowls all sound was muffled by the snow.

 Unfortunately I could not take pictures in the morning when all the trees, even the tiniest twigs and branches were covered in snow.

 

 The snow is already melting as the sun has come out

 

 An uninterrupted view in what is mainly an urban area