Lost in transit

Postcards

I like a sunny day, for then I can hide behind my sunglasses. Even though I have lived here almost 21 years, and in this small village for 14, things have yet to become so familiar as to be invisible, visual white noise. I see everything, I hear everything, I am always looking around. And so I like a sunny day, when I can wear my sunglasses and look about in privacy.

It never gets boring, looking around, for there is always something new to see, something to wonder about. What is it about the light here at about 8.30 in the morning that makes the colors so vibrant ? Why are there 20 times the usual amount of turkish couples buying fish at the fish mongers on Fridays, compared to any other day of the week ? Why do they plant the trees in such neat rows ?

In the cities I see the development of each city revealed in it's architecture, in the country, the neat boxes of trees planted around the farm houses to break the winds of the polder landscape. The narrow strips of property on the Langstraat, where farmers have split their land for their sons . The Herons and other birds I don't know the names of.

I look and look and never become a part of it.

And it is never mine.

I live amidst postcards.

Posted by at April 5, 2003 05:49 PM