It was a grey, cold day. Fog settled in the morning and stayed, thick, milky, still. We drove to Gaasterland, the land of gentle hills, forests planted long ago, and sleepy towns in the southwestern part of Friesland, a province in northern Netherlands. My mother and stepfather like one of the forests there–Rijster Bosch (or Rijsterbos), a quiet, spellbinding … Continue reading
I often think of that day — I was visiting my mother in the Netherlands, and it was cold and grey. Our wanderings seemed to fall perfectly into place. We spent an afternoon in the Hague, my first time there. Mom had three highlights in mind, so the afternoon arranged itself comfortably around them: The Binnenhof, home … Continue reading
On that peaceful day, my mom and I wandered through the fields near Groningen, Netherlands, and she took this picture. I miss her very much and can’t wait to see her.
A staple of many a far-off destination: the pigeon, always there to provide the familiar grey, the endearing vermin that keeps on spreading. I usually try not to catch one in a photograph, but they do sneak in. I will count them today. In London, I caught the beginning of the end of the pigeon domination … Continue reading
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