Icicles like îles flottantes

The moment our waterways get frozen over something happens to the Dutch: we simply have to skate. It is like a bug, a virus, a madness – no remedy against it: just get your skates from the attic, the cellar or garage and go. We indulge in endlessly repeated stories on heroic skating tours on television and eagerly follow all the news on ‘yes’ or ‘no’ is it safe to skate.

Our skating reputation caused one of my English superiors when I worked abroad to say: ‘Send Miss R in on her skates, please’. I hear him say this today, it is funny how the mind works and recalls moments like yesterday.

The river nearby is partly frozen, but is very dangerous to skate on. The water level keeps changing because of the continuous water works. There have been rare times though that the period of frost was so severe that we could skate from village to village. My old ice dancing skates were not suitable for tour skating on the river and the lakes nearby. A friend lent me a pair of old fashioned wooden skates, saying  they had just been seen to and sharpened. The disappointment of not being able to move one inch and not getting anywhere made me literally cry and so mad. It was terrible, and terrible to see how everyone was enjoying themselves. An outsider at once of all the ice fun. No compassion from anyone, busy as they were with their own skating. How stupid can you be not to be prepared for upcoming skating?! My friend told me later he discovered the skates had been sharpened the wrong way round and no wonder I was not getting anywhere.

Someone asked me then ‘Which village is this?!’, apparently in ice heaven and totally absorbed by the ice not knowing where he was going. I guess this ice madness is a bond with nature all around us, it is in our genes. The moment you can stand up and walk  like a kid you are put on skates.

Have a look at Jeroen Bosch's messenger in the side bar: on skates!

No more skating for me, I have reached the age that ulnar and hip fractures should not be sustained and being avoided. But I squint with envy when I see it all around me. Many memories on the skating rink opposite my parents house pop up like submarines, the whole family had such wonderful times on it. It was and still is a natural skating rink being maintained on a part of the wastelands of the river Rhine. There was always the excitement, first of the moment they would open up the locks and let in the wastewater of the Rhine. Then hoping and praying the temperature would go down and waiting to see the officials testing the ice.  Once the music came across and the gates were being opened we all became ‘high’ on our ice fever.

Today, as the sun was setting like a red balloon, I walked along the river with our puppy. The ice had soft shades of pink, blue and grey. Snow everywhere, also on the river. In the open parts water birds herding together, the sight and the sound of the wings of six swans taking off from the water was magnificent. I tried to take a picture of a little red robin that came close, but the puppy started to chase him. Clever guy, this red robin, he played hide and seek, not afraid or intimidated at all.

At one particular place along the river my eyes caught the sight of these icicles, like îles flottantes. The water level had gone down, but the little frozen round icicles remained attached to the reed, just on top of the water level. The pictures do not justice to what it looked like. A couple saw me taking pictures; together we stopped a while and were stunned by its phenomenon and beauty.

Click on the pictures and enjoy a better view, A fragment of one of the pictures almost looks like a Japanese painting. Jan Creemer has opened an exhibition just now on his sea paintings; maybe I should make ice paintings? Not that I can compete ...