I am sitting at the edge of the jetty used by a ferry to take people to and fro the widest section of the third of the Rijn that flows next to our house.. The water is rippling, but not from any boat traffic, but by the gentle breeze, which also makes the reed rustle. The sounds of frogs and aquatic birds seem to echo through the space around me, but they too are sonorous. It has been a long time since I have felt so at ease in my own skin.
My walk with my friend was long over, but i felt the need to walk some more. There is something sanguine about late Spring evenings. Sunlight fades ever so gradually that it allows one to appreciate the many hues of blue of the sky. And as the night draws its curtains on the sun, the nature of reflections in the water changes too. But one must be patient to discern these.
At first I was busy making pictures, and my eyes were glued to the screen of my phone, which was busy keeping me "connected". And then I had the urge to slow down. It was funny, because just as I peeled the screen from my eyes, it seemed that there were no stars, even though the sky was cloudless.
"There may be no stars to sleep under", I thought to myself, "but I might as well let the lukewarm breeze blanket me". I am glad I did that. The momentary lack of stars was not a celestial fault, but rather my own... my eyes were battered by the intense glow of the screen! Thankfully, I let the screen glaze melt off my eyes, and very soon the stars began to reveal themselves one after another. Soon my eyes recovered enough to spot what seemed like a satellite - it was far too distant, and it moved much too fast to be a plane. I tried to follow its trajectory for as long as I could. No sooner than my gaze approached the horizon, did I realise that a blood red full moon had just arisen.
I have been laying here for well over an hour now. Charlie has made himself comfortable as well. I know I must return home, but the lust of staying here a bit longer is stronger. Call it beauty, magic or whatever, I do not think a cliché could capture the gezelligheid (Dutch for "coziness") of my solitude under the stars and the moon. But it does seem to me that there we all may be able to experience this connection with nature, if only we looked away from the God forsaken phones for a while, every once in a while.
The moon has now risen a lot higher now. On that note, i must cease writing this letter on my phone at once, and lie down for a while again.
