woensdag 28 oktober 2015


Once upon a time there was a woman. A cheerful, robust woman. She always had energy. Nothing was too much for her. Every morning she got up singing and she ran through the day. And each evening she put her flushed cheek to rest on her pillow satisfied. Until it was November.

In the beginning of the month she began to yawn. She yawned and yawned and yawned. At the end of the month she discovered that after so much yawning, only half of her was left. The funny thing was, you couldn’t see it on the outside. On the outside she looked the same, healthy as always, a little bit fatter even. But on the inside she was only half. The remaining energy solidified slowly. In the lowest gear she shambled through November. The days were grey, and so was the woman. The clouds were hanging low and grew. And sometimes when they were full they would overflow. The woman sometimes joined the clouds in losing water. And then she would dream of rustling green leaves in sun drenched parks. Of laughter and joy in May. And then the woman would sigh and shake her head, tormented, and would become one with the weeping clouds again.

So she crept into December. She could not laugh anymore. Sometimes one corner of her mouth would curl upwards, reluctantly. But it made her muscles ache so much, that in the second half of December even THAT was too much. One day, at the end of the month she woke up in a cage. The door of the cage was wide open. She didn’t have to stay in the cage if she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to. Yet she couldn’t leave it. Outside the cage it was busy. There were many people. And people always needed something from her. And even if they didn’t want something from her, they still wanted something. And that was impossible with solidified energy. So she stayed in her safe, quiet and familiar cage. Sometimes people outside the cage tried to lure her out. Or they tried to seduce her with delicious food. Or with nice promises. “Come! I saw the sun today!” “If you go for a walk with me, we can go for a hot chocolate afterwards.” But it wasn’t enough. Then they tried some patronizing comments. “Now you have to go outside, you need it!” “Come on, do something active. You don’t get tired any more! You need to get tired!” It fell on deaf ears.

Finally somebody with authority came. He spoke: ”I prescribe city walks. Walks with a. camera.” The woman could stand the yanking no longer and she thought “Then It Will Have To Happen….”. She took her camera and dragged herself out of the door and started walking. She climbed the stairs at the end of the road. She walked through the streets. She crossed the tram rails. She walked and walked whilst taking photographs of everything she saw. The houses, the churches, the shop windows. Everything all over the city. After one and a half hours, she was so tired that it woke her up! And she noticed that walking is helpful! Creaking and squeaking, a smile appeared on her face. It surprised her too. She was still capable of that! She had to tell the others at home. And so she walked home contentedly.

From that day onwards, the woman and the camera were best friends. And that evening, when she put her cheek to rest on her pillow, she felt that she was already a little bit more than half. With a hint of a smile she fell into a deep sleep. And every day and night brought her a little closer to Spring. The long awaited Spring.

1 opmerking:

  1. waarom geen warme chocolade? we doen er een taartje d'r bij