Schellingwoude
Monday, 12 September 2016: 13.42 - 15.39
Northwest of Amsterdam is a place I go to cool my heels when the city becomes too busy for me.
The fence, the houses, the grass, and the clouds. That’s how everything came together in my head.
Water that looked like a lawn, and the little house hiding under the trees.
The grey rooftops and white walls politely interrupt the rows and rows of green.
Well it seemed ‘mysterious’ at the time: flashes of sunlight cutting up the dark shadows—and things like that
You see a lonesome chair and the very least you can do is stop and say: “Hello.”
I can’t remember why I took this picture: white clouds, green clouds; water and leaves?
…And suddenly there’s a giant red shoe: not once, but twice.
The red brick building with the turquoise window frames made me stop: something to do with its attitude.
It looked as if the building, with its whitewall staircase, was watching the earth movers, and biding its time.
Water and plants and trees again. I wonder what’s going on behind the shadows and green.
The sundial in the front lawn; waiting patiently for someone’s attention.
A green house, white trim, and that window staring back at me like a four-sided eye.
The sound of flowing water takes control of my feet and leads me to the source.
The clump of trees with that groove in the middle. And the lines…
Red bricks, clouds, and water…
Another gate with a “Don’t trespass” sign tacked on to the front. Well, I suppose those two mini-ponies must be very safe.
A trio of pretty cool horses. I like to think we're friends.
And then all you see is the little white church…
The stripes came first, and then I saw the bollards, shadows, and the windows.
Peeking between buildings isn't just allowed, it's highly recommended by doctors and therapists around the world.
The two orange chairs are the pull here: waiting patiently for someone to come akin and sit down.
Another picture that defies sensible explanation: this house was simply there.
The row of windows set into the roofs remind me of spectators watching an intense tennis match.
Something about the alignment of the boats reminds me of an office meeting. Why? I can’t say, but it does.
Boats in a row, and then that swan!
I was busy with the sailing ship in the background, and then I noticed the seagull chilling on top of a lamppost.
An unofficial maze of locks and white railings.
The zig of the railings, the barechested cyclist, the windsock, and the bell. Summertime Noord Holland style.
The lampposts seemed to be in the middle of a neck-stretching contest.
There’s something about those glass panels… I believe they dance about in the middle of the night.
Behind all the lines and angles were the trees. Freedom in green.
The curve. I imagine some fiery-eyed inventor blasting her latest watercycle along the curve and then into the water.
Those two yellow buoys are waiting for someone to come along and ask for assistance.
The clouds floating above the trees…
The landscape is dominated by an abundance of metal piping.
Apparently there are meanings hidden within the lines of this composition. I looked but couldn't find them.
A reflection, that's all.
Sometimes it's the arrangement of objects that grabs the eye.
Swans do have a certain curiosity.
I saw this and thought: “So that’s how postcards are made.”
The flowerpots on the roof of the houseboat seemed to be having fun.
If I were to imagine an ordinary* street, with ordinary houses it would look a bit like this.
*ordinary is an extremely relative quality
Almost, but not quite, a jump back in time. The church, the house, the old army ambulance…
…And the two cyclists, at the end of the road.