Friday, August 04, 2006

Resistance from within

(Thanks to Frits for the tip!)

Campaign against Bush, because the World Can’t Wait!
Fascinating website, with lots of other links to other anti-Bush sites...even a Bush War Crimes Commission.

The US Government] on the basis of outrageous lies, is waging a murderous
and utterly illegitimate war in Iraq, with other countries in their sights.
[The US Government]is openly torturing people, and justifying it.

[The US Government]puts people in jail on the merest suspicion, refusing
them lawyers, and either holding them indefinitely or deporting them in the dead
of night.

[The US Government]is moving each day closer to a theocracy, where a narrow
and hateful brand of Christian fundamentalism will rule.

[The US Government]suppresses the science that doesn't fit its religious,
political and economic agenda, forcing present and future generations to pay a
terrible price.

[The US Government]is moving to deny women here, and all over the world,
the right to birth control and abortion.

[The US Government] enforces a culture of greed, bigotry, intolerance and

  • "Today, a leading power such as the United States approaches theocracy when it meets the conditions currently on display: an elected leader who believes himself to speak for the Almighty, a ruling political party that represents religious true believers, the certainty of many Republican voters that government should be guided by religion and, on top of it all, a White House that adopts agendas seemingly animated by biblical worldviews."
    Kevin Phillips

  • "Cheney and his crowd are all for free and open elections - as long as they turn out their way. They are all for free speech - provided it supports the administration. They are all for the rule of law - as long as the law does not prevent them from doing whatever they want to do. When elections, speeches or laws are inconvenient, he does not hesitate to declare that they are helping the terrorists. I can think of no graver offense against our democracy."
    Edward M. Kennedy, 'Demeaning Democracy'

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Where did David go this time?

We travelled quite a bit the other day in our rented car. The weather wasn't too cooperative, but just good and dry enough to have a day out.

First, we went to Kinderdijk, famous for its row of windmills, then to Giethoorn, a village which is supposed to be the "Venice of the North". Then as an added bonus, since we weren't all that tired, we travelled further north, into Fryslan (Friesland) and drove on the Afsluitdijk, a thirty kilometre dike which connects the two sides of the Netherlands. In total, around 500km, an effectively a circle around the north of the country, through meadows, forests, artificial land, polders and dikes.

Nice! Posted by Picasa

more pictures of the Afsluitdijk

The sea side: Waddenzee

Dike on the sea side.
Rainbow on the lake side of the Afsluitdijk Posted by Picasa


The Afsluitdijk ('Close-off' dike) is an enormous dike which bridges the two northern provinces of the Netherlands (Friesland and North Holland). The dike is 30 km long and 90m wide, and is even visible from space.

It was completed in in 1932, by Cornelis Lely, and effectively closes the inner sea (Zuiderzee) off from the outer sea (Waddenzee), to form a giagantic lake in the heart of the country (Ijsselmeer). The highway A7 runs across the 'dike' (which is actually a dam).

Work began in 1927, from both ends, with the use of heavy weights and blocks of rock which were piled on top of each other. On both ends there are also water gates which can open and close to allow ships in and out. This was at a time before computers, so really proves how ingenious and industrious the Dutch are in their fight against water.

In the middle of the dike there is a monument dedicated to the thousands of people who worked on the project. On it it reads: "Een volk dat leeft bouwt aan zijn toekomst". (A people that lives builds on its future).

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Giethoorn (Goat horn) is a little village in Overijssel, consisting of several islands on which houses were built on. These islands are connected with little bridges and a system of canals, which give it the impression of being "Venice of the North".

The village was founded in the Middle Ages by religious exiles called 'Flagellanten' from the Mediterranean Sea. They arrived at this place and found a lot of goat horns, and so named their village after this.

Today it's a big tourist attraction, and the little cottages are worth millions...a far cry from the simple and self-mortifying lifestyle that the original inhabitans came to pursue.

More pictures on my travelog
Giethoorn I
Giethoorn II
Giethoorn III
Giethoorn IV
Giethoorn V
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Sustainable energy is the way forward, and the Netherlands is a step ahead of other countries. The government actively subsidises industries to make use of renewable energy like wind and solar power, and this is clearly visible in the north of the country.

Vast stretches of land are adorned with towering turbines. From a distance, quite a sight!
A little surreal in the natural landscape, like giant machines from space.

Tulipower is a big manaufacturer of these turbines. Each can generate up to 8000kwh of energy per year.

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On the way, we passed through Flevoland, the twelfth and youngest province of the Netherlands. A hundred years ago, this vasat stretch of land did not exist. It was not until the completion of the Afsluitdijk in 1932 that the waters in this artificial sea (Ijsselmeer) became stable enough for it to be drained and for land to be created.

The Noordoostpolder (Emmeloord, on top, connected to the mainland) is an extension from existing land, while the Flevopolder (big island, where Lelystad is located) is the biggest artificial island in the world. The entire province is around 5m below sea level.

Crossing over from mainland Netherlands to Flevoland. Typical of the Flevoland landscape are countless wind-powered turbines.

Flat land, as usual

Turbines along the western coast of Flevoland, situated on dikes which act as a barrier against the sea. Posted by Picasa


No where else in there world are there so many windmills at one place than in Kinderdijk (Child dike). There are many stories about the name's origin. Some say that during a storm 1421, a cot floated into the area with a baby inside, sleeping peacefully and still dry and alive. People say a cat jumped up and down inside in an attempt to balance the cot so that water wouldn't get in.
Another, more sinister story, is that the dikes in the area were built by children.

Whatever the story, the 19 mills that stand along the banks of Kinderdijk were instrumental in moving excess water from the Alblasserwaard polders (land claimed through draining water) into the nearby river Lek. Through the use of wind power, the mills pumped water from the lower polders to the higher levels in a sort of 'ascending stairway' of canals, which eventually lead into the river. Today this is done by a pompstation. The windmills are now part UNESCO's cultural heritage sites.

More pictures on my travelog.
Kinderdijk I
Kinderdijk II

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Another good bye

The train pulled away, speeding faster and faster away. Everything became a fuzzy haze.

So ended the three week visit of my cousin and his wife. I didn’t expect it, but as I walked off the platform, with the train’s red tail lights inching further and further away, I felt a strange sense of sudden sadness. For a few moments I felt the emotions wallowing in my eyes.

I didn’t take the bus home, but really felt like walking. Perhaps to walk off the feelings. The cool August drizzle helped, and the slight cool breeze washed away some of the lingering effects of the goodbye. Another good bye. Till we meet again.

It felt like yesterday that I went to pick them up, showed them around. Those long bike tours around the city, to the market places, green gardens, not to mention canal cruise in Amsterdam, or that memorable sunset on the beach. Then there was the long journey to and around the north of the Netherlands, the awe inspiring trips to the many museums and galleries, walks in the rain and forests. Though most the time they were on their own, as they travelled around in France, Germany and Belgium, the short weekends they came back to have an energy-boost before they set off again were fun, to say the least.

What made it all the more meaningful were not the places and sceneries I’ve visited perhaps a dozen times already. It was the conversations we had, about the present, and the past. The past not so long ago, and very long ago, as long as I could remember. It’s been a while since I talked to anyone so deeply, and I felt in touch again with the things I’ve more or less left behind when I left ‘home’ and boarded the plane back in March. All those heated talks at home, the troubles with my parents, the worries and despairs seemed all so far, far away. I thought I had left that all behind in this peaceful and uneventful life I lead now. But my cousin and his wife have managed to bring me back, for better or worse, to what I still have. Family.

The family you cannot choose, unlike the friends you can surrender and sunder. The family you love to hate, and hate to love. The people who have they faults, their mistakes, their terrible secrets, and their temperaments that you keep on pointing out at every chance you get, but then when you remember the one moment in your childhood that you felt loved seems to blur out all their failings. The people who watched you grow from an innocent baby, to a naughty child, to a rebellious teen, and who expect you to be bigger, better, and larger than they could ever hope to be. The people whose words sometimes sting, but at other times are so warming and delicate that they could break silence. The people who sometimes say nothing, but mean everything.

The people you care about, but have a hard time saying or expressing it, because you’ve been brought up not being used to expressing or saying it. The people you’d like to hug and say ‘I love you’ to, but is too difficult because it’s too embarrassing and makes your skin crawl. The people you share only bits and pieces of your life with—while hiding all the rest out of fear of disappointing or despairing them—but then will perhaps be closer than anyone you will ever meet in life. The family you know you will one day loose, but have not yet realised it, until it’s all too late. The people you argue with and for those heated moments seem to detest to the bitter end, but then realise the next day that they are still your family. The family you know will forgive you not matter what you do, and love you all the same, even though some people have a different, more subtle and indirect way of showing it.

The people who often hurt you, by the things they say and the way they say it, but are actually secretly proud of who you’ve become and what you’ve done. The people to whom you seem so useless and worthless, but are silently crying happy tears because they’ve been able to see their years of hardship and patience grow into a fine person. The people who save every penny and are so thrifty and cruel to themselves, in order to put you through college and hope that you’ll have a better future than the rest of them. The people who put so much hopes on you and want to see you succeed in life, but expect nothing in return.

Yes, we talked a lot about family, my cousin, his wife and I. About how I grew up, how I was as a child who often stayed at my cousin’s place…how the ‘good old days’ were, when it was just fun and play. But also about how, away from the fun and play, there were already signs of deterioration lurking around every corner. The years of misunderstanding, prejudice, denial, distrust, non-communication, the interference by people who believe they are trying to make things better but in fact make it all even worse, the deep-seated hatred and intolerance, together with the inability to change and accommodate to others have caused a lot of ruin within my family. I may have been a child, but I could see, perhaps as young as five, that there were things seriously wrong with my family. Not that that is anything out of the ordinary, but when it’s your family, it becomes and is a whole lot bigger than life itself.

And now, confronted again with the realities of the situation at home, the inevitable aging and ill-health of my parents, I should be more concerned. Not that I should start worrying about their well-being every single moment, or start to get myself involved in the ongoing state of cold war at home. Be more concerned, as it caring, understanding and compassionate. I mean I cannot change anything that is going on, even the things that I hear that make me sad and disappointed and hurt. But I can change the way I feel, and the way I feel towards my family. I can wish them well, hope they have the wisdom and courage to step away from their pain and miseries, and hope they have the strength and ability to see happiness and embrace it.

I need not at salt to old wounds. I need not react strongly or be too affected whenever they hurt me by what they say or do. I only need to appreciate, to see what they see, to take them as they are, and not try to see what I want to see, and to try and change them into who I want them to be.

It was realising all this, from the many talks I had, that I felt a sense of ‘relief’. Relief that despite all odds there are still people out there who do care, who are still there for me to depend on when I need to—people who may be very far away, but the bond between them and me seems so strong that I feel it in my dreams and thoughts.
And how long can I have all this? Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Inhumane immigration policies

(Thanks to Frits for the tips!)

According to Minister Verdonk for Integration and Immigration, some 200 children born to Dutch mothers do not qualify to be Dutch citizens. She bases this on an old (now defunct) law dating back to 1985, which stated that only children born to a Dutch father can become Dutch automatically. Verdonk argues that there was already a three year ‘transition period’ in which people born to Dutch mothers before 1985 could still apply for citizenship.

Many of these children were feel as Netherlander as anyone else. The lawyer representing the applicants argues that the law is discriminatory, and that many countries like the UK and Hungary have adopted measures to prevent this kind of drastic results from happening. Even when there was a transition period, many whose citizenship status is affected did not know or were unable to know about the change in law.

In other news, from research done by a popular newspaper, as many as three quarters of immigration cases decisions were reversed by immigration courts because Minister Verdonk for Immigration and the Immigration Service (IND) acted improperly in reaching their decisions. The research was based on 120 cases end of February to mid July. The Supreme Court often upholds the decisions of the immigration courts. To many judges, the working methods of the Minister and IND are questionable, especially how they reject crucial evidence supplied by the applicants which have heavy weights in supporting their requests to stay in the Netherlands.

An example of this improper decision making: an underage Guinean boy who worked lived in the streets for many years was arrested by police and put in prison without reason. There, he underwent serious abuse, resulting in many broken bones and scars. He escaped to the Netherlands and subsequently applied for asylum, only to have it rejected by Minister Verdonk because the abuse was not serious enough. To lawyer of the Minister argues that ‘abuse’ means rape and torture. Further, the IND does not believe this story, because the boy has no papers to prove it. >>The court rejected Verdonk’s decision.

Another example: a seventeen year old Iranian refuses to marry a 51 year Iranian government official, and as a result endures undergoes serious threats to her life and family from hired goons. She eventually escapes to the Netherlands and applies for asylum, only to have it rejected because, again, the IND does not believe the story. She supplies evidence of her brother who suddenly disappeared, and the threats to the father who was of a different political background. Even family members and friends wrote letters to serve as evidence. All these were rejected as “unreliable”. Further, the admittance of evidence to support the applicant’s case were rejected on procedural grounds. >>Immigration court reverses decision. In the Ayaan Hirsi Ali case, letters from family members and friends were deemed as enough to make a positive decision.

Yet another example of Minister Verdonk’s inhumane application of asylum laws: Applicant an Angolan woman with six children. Her husband was a captain at the security forces of the government, but at the same time active member of the Unita rebel movement. He disappeared under suspicious circumstances. The woman flees the country out of fear of being an ‘accomplice’, and applies for asylum in the Netherlands. She does this under the ground of having suffered trauma as a result of the events back home.

Minister Verdonk refuses asylum, because the facts were not believable enough, and that the woman would not be under risk if deported back to Angola. She has not suffered enough to qualify for traumatic asylum. >>Court rejects Verdonk’s arguments. As a single parent with six underage children, the applicant is at great risk to her life and security in politically unstable Angola. Trauma does not have to be proven medically; the violent death of her husband and the father of the children, together with the fleeing is enough.

To be fair, Professor of immigration affairs, Heinrich Winter says that the IND does not have an easy task, since it is dealing with an enormous backlog of cases and immigration reform measures that were introduced in 2001. But he argues that with asylum cases you cannot simply rigidly apply the rules, but must take into account the “nuance” and the human factor which matter most.

“People who flee do not always carry extensive documentation with them. And you cannot expect that the refugees always trust the Dutch government immediately, but in the [Dutch] immigration policy it is [expected that people trust the government]. People have been affected in their private lives. Sometimes they have been tortured or raped, and they must immediately entrust their story to a Dutch civil servant, while they often have had very bad experiences with the authorities in their own country, certainly with the police.

Further, some refugees refrain [from giving] information in order to protect others, such as family members in their homeland. The Dutch government says that the information is safe with it, but in the treatment of Congolese and Syrian asylum seekers it appears that that is not always so.”

Apparently, Verdonk has been warned as many as 10 times by the European Court of Justice (the highest court of appeal in the European Union) for her improper handling of asylum cases. The Court decided that the Netherlands had violated human rights by its failure to investigate serious abuses and dangers that pose threats to the asylum seekers’ lives.

Monday, July 31, 2006

Internet freedom in China under attack…again

‘[…] the information society’s very life blood is freedom. It is freedom that enables citizens everywhere to benefit from knowledge, journalists to do their essential work, and citizens to hold government accountable. Without openness, without the right to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers, the information revolution will stall, and the information society we hope to build will be stillborn.’
Kofi Annan, UN Secretary General

Why are freedoms of expression and information important? Because knowledge determines the way we see the world. Granted there are many truths out there, and nobody holds the absolute truth, but in authoritarian regimes like China truth is twisted by the government as a means of political control and manipulation. Without access to free information and to the ability to receive and dissipate free information, society is dictated by what the political few want the masses to believe and think. And that is a danger, not just to the society which feeds on disinformation, but to the world at large, as it hinders free debate and creates misunderstanding.

How serious is the threat of the Chinese regime to freedom of press?

“Any government has the right to look after national security. But in China, national security is used as a catchall category that allows the authorities to imprison people whom they perceive as a threat less to the national interest but to the interests of the Chinese Communist Party. For the party, these are the same thing. By any reasonable measure, they are not.” China’s freedom test

Why is the world at large not the least concerned and still pouring money into China? Most suffer from the delusions of ‘market-driven-liberalism’: the idea that growing prosperity will eventually force a regime and society to open up and embrace greater social and political freedoms. China is the exception which confirms this rule.

“[…]the world's attitude to China's authoritarian regime differs markedly to that of say, apartheid South Africa in the past. The democratic world's approach to China over the past ten years has been one of economic engagement. Never mind an appalling human rights record and a rate of growth that puts the future of the climate in further jeopardy; send in the global businesses, goes the reasoning, and the economic freedoms they bring will be a democratising force.” Amnesty's China hit-list

And with the prevalence of the internet, you might think that there will be more direct flows and exchanges of information. But this is far from reality. The internet as a forum can be monitored, filtered and controlled just as easily as any other medium. Introducing: the Great Chinese Firewall—an elaborate system of cyber police, undercover forum moderators, government-backed bloggers and net-surfers, as well as complicit soft- and hardware companies. This statement from Amnesty International confirms this observation:

“[…] the apparatus of Internet repression is considered to be more advanced in China than in any other country, and in part because of the willingness of Internet hardware and software companies to cooperate with the Chinese government in their quest to develop a large and lucrative market.”

Amnesty International just published a report as part of its on-line campaign against internet suppression. The report, titled Undermining freedom of expression in China, outlines the active role that the Big Three internet companies (Yahoo, Google and Microsoft) are playing in helping the Chinese government to suppress internet freedom. Google for example willingly submitted itself to censorship of ‘sensitive’ topics in its China-based search engine.

“All three companies have, in one way or another, facilitated or colluded in the practice of censorship in China. Yahoo! has provided the Chinese authorities with private and confidential information about its users. This included personal data that has been used to convict at least two journalists, considered by Amnesty International to be prisoners of conscience. Microsoft has admitted to shutting down a blog on the basis of a government request. Google has launched a censored version of its international search engine in China.”

These are alarming behaviours by such global companies with so much influence on the flow of information. Even more alarming is that their collaboration with the Chinese government are in contradiction of their self-proclaimed values in defending freedom of expression.

“All three companies have demonstrated a disregard for their own internally driven and proclaimed policies. They have made promises to themselves, their employees, their customers and their investors which they failed to uphold in the face of business opportunities and pressure from the Chinese government. This raises doubts about which statements made by these organisations can be trusted and which ones are public relations gestures.”

In addition, these companies are outlandishly defying the UN Global Compact—a set of ethical business principles which outline that multinational corporations should in the conduct of their businesses—whether in the production or merchandising of their services and goods— pay regard to internationally recognised principles, amongst other, human rights and fundamental freedoms:

Principle 1

Businesses should support and respect the protection of internationally proclaimed human rights within their sphere of influence.

Principle 2

Businesses should ensure that their own operations are not complicit in human rights abuses.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

Beach journey

Some days you just wake up and want to do something…out of the ordinary.
Today was such a day.

Not exactly a warm welcome as I went downstairs. Brother greeted me by saying the cat had peed again, which is another way of saying ‘clean it up’. Had a quick brunch and decided I needed to get out of the house. Grabbed the bike, a magazine, two bars of chocolate and a bottle of water and just left, unsure where I’d end up.

I cycled and cycled, and it started to drizzle. I didn’t want to turn back, despite the fact that clothes were getting soaked. Going back meant I had to face ‘all that at home’, and I didn’t want to. And knowing Dutch weather, I gathered the rain would stop soon enough. And it did. For a while.

(Footsteps: how far I've come)

I headed into the dunes, in the general direction of north along the coast. I just cycled and cycled, with music in my ears and thoroughly felt that liberating feeling—or perhaps rush—I get from cycling. Soon my mind clear, and so did the sky.

I wasn’t sure where the path would lead, but I just followed it, taking me up and down little sand hills awash with shrubs and other undergrowth. Eventually the path came to a dead end, and there lying before me was the beach. A deserted one.

I parked my bike and stood for a few moments to take in the view. To one side was Scehveningen, the usually crowded and overpriced resort with a hideous pier. To the other side was emptiness. No surprise in which direction I went.

I started walking, again unsure I where I would end up. Originally I wanted to come to the beach and find a quiet place to sit down and read…but I just kept on walking, and walking, and walking. Occasionally a couple, or someone equally alone as I was, would pass me by. Some travelling the same direction, some the opposite direction. But for those brief moments our paths did cross and meet…or at least our eyes and smiles did.

A little embarrassed as I hadn’t realised that the further I walked, the deeper I tread into naturalist territory. Mostly old(er) people, wrinkled and grey. Not much to look at. Not that I did, or wanted to. I just kept on walking.

At one point I was tired of the shoes on my feet. I wanted to touch nature, and let it touch me. It felt even more liberating to be walking barefoot on the sand. I continued walking, the wind blowing and blowing, the air sometimes filled with the sounds and flapping of seagulls and other birds. Some rested in large droves, some flew over the horizon in a neat formation, braving the strong winds and drizzles. I kept on walking, sand tickling my feet, clinging onto my toes and the crevices between them. Broken seashells glittered in the weak daylight and crunched beneath my feet. I enjoyed that sound, that crunching of empty shells. It made me feel…powerful, like I was in control. Crushing and crunching.

(Wadding through water)

The sea was grey today, and waves brushed against the shore in a low, ever-continuous rasp. Dense clouds loomed above, some patches darker than others. In the distance I could see streaks of rain as they fell to the earth, and that soon would come my way. I kept on walking, walking and walking. In the distance, far, far away I saw some buildings. Still unsure where I was going, and unsure what those buildings were, I headed north, and continued walking.

Sometimes thoughts and worries arose in my mind, but I shook them off, again and again, just as I shook off the sand grains which cling onto my feet, again and again. A lot of the time I felt so small in the backdrop of an endless and empty beach and an even more endless and empty sea. I was there, to clear my mind, to clear my thoughts, to get away. And get away I did.

Left, right, left, right. Memories from Myanmar came back to me as I walked, recalling and trying to relive that meditative momentum. Left, right, left, right. The wind was strong, and at times I was tempted to just turn around and head back, but something kept me going. I came across many pools of water that had been separated by the sea. I wadded through them, like a child through puddles of rain. I splashed and kicked, got myself wet and excited. The water parted beneath me, white foam collected around my knees, and behind me trailed ripples of waves as if a ship had sailed across the water.

Sometimes my toes hurt, cut by the sharp shrapnel of seashells. But I kept on going. I knew I could make it. My eyes were set on those buildings, and my mind set on reaching them. I kept on walking. And eventually did arrive…to my surprise at Katwijk aan Zee! Now, that’s around 10km from where I started. And I had no idea I could do that within 2 hours! Just shows where determination and concentration could take you. I sat down for a few moments, ate my chocolate bars, remembering to put the wrappers into my bag and take them home with me. When you are on an empty beach and there is nothing else but sand and rubbish, you’ll know what I mean. I sat and watched children play, huddled together over a pool, perhaps attempting to decipher what miraculous creature they have uncovered. Old couples walked hand in hand. Young couples walked arm in arm. Other couples stood and hugged, braving the wind that threatened to tear them apart. Some were as alone as I was. Which was comforting.

And then it started to rain again. I thought if I just sat a little longer, the rain would stop. But it didn’t, but got bigger and bigger. People scrambled for cover and fled the beach. I too stood up and patted my sand-soaked trousers. I couldn’t exactly flee. All I could do was face the rain and start the long journey back.

It wasn’t the first time I walked in the rain. But a thought did occur to me: why does it always (seem to) rain whenever I go on a long quest? A test perhaps? Of my will, perseverance, strength, my body? I knew I had it in me to pass the test. And eventually I would.

It rained and rained. At first my spirits were dampened as my trousers and tank-top became soaked. I could only bemoan the skies and fate…but then I realised nobody is to blame. Rain just came, and rain will go. And it eventually did go. That’s the nature of things. Just how it is. I accepted it. And the rain became my friend.

On the way back, most of the journey was in the rain, accompanied by strong gale force winds. Once or twice I passed people who were equally soaked. We gave each other glances and smiles, a sign that we silently understood each other’s predicaments. Those were magical moments of meetings of minds. [...]

At one point I really had to pee. I looked around, and there was nobody around, safe for the seagulls that roamed the skies above. I did it there and then, on the beach. As I did, I realised why it was a bad idea to do so in the wind. And I don’t mean the risk of €75 fine for ‘wild-peeing’ (wildplassen) like that 3 year old boy received earlier in the week.

I smiled and laughed like I’ve not done in a long, long time. Something about the whole situation was hilarious, and I couldn’t stop laughing. I spread my arms wide to embrace the wind, the rain, the whole world. I stuck my tongue out to taste the rain, feel the wildness of nature soak me and touch me.

I felt so free, so happy. Like a child again. Posted by Picasa

walking and walking...

I started here...Along the way (notice the Coke bottle!!!)

Along the way...

Ended up here, at Katwijk aan Zee Posted by Picasa

Scenes from the beach

It's in the rain
© 2005 Warner Music Intl.

Every time the rain comes down,
close my eyes and listen.
I can hear the lonesome sound
of the sky as it cries.

Listen to the rain...
Here it comes again...
Hear it in the rain...

Feel the touch of tears that fall,
they won't fall forever.
In the way the day will flow,
all things come, all things go.

Listen to the rain...
(the rain...)
Here it comes again...
Hear it in the rain...
(the rain...)

Late at night I drift away
I can hear you calling,
and my name is in the rain,
leaves on trees whispering,
deep blue sea's mysteries.

Even when this moment ends,
can't let go this feeling.
Everything will come again
in the sound, falling down,
of the sky as it cries.
Hear my name in the rain.

Swarm of birds
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