What if?

Time ticks inconsistently, not to the clock but to the person. Time ticks slower when times are hard, and speeds back up when time flies. When your assignment of the moment is so challenging, the clock nearly freezes. When the day seems over after lunch, it is something to grieve. When half an hour to go until toddler bed time seems an eternity, it is something to overcome.

What is current cannot always be what is now. It is what was, just not that long ago. It is what is still of interest. If it is currently on the minds of a large enough group of people one could find it a current affair. What is important might be current, but it might be the past. The time as part of ‘current’ is not steady. The measure of time past before the current part of the current affair has faded, remains undetermined.

Einstein’s general relativity theory did tell it all. Time warps by mass. Heavy things make time sway in an alternate pace. Heavy on the heart seems to do the same trick. How slow or fast time goes when uninfluenced I cannot tell you. How would it be possible for a human to pass through time non biased about its perception. Would our brain allow us such an experience? Would we not immediately go mad? Or perhaps, slowly go mad? For indeed, we would not have a proper time to determine how the madness has set in. One has to accept our dependence on time based on our experience of its duration. Therefore, we can only conclude, that how fast time ticks is in the eye of the beholder.

I am a few steps away from a parallel world. A world new to me, but equally old as the world I am in now. Evolution went different there, or so it’s told. Beings, undetectable on this side, are sensed over there. Energy flows different and speaking has more forms than only sound or movement. Many tales go round on where this road leads to and how the journey is taunting the human senses.

I am not the first who wants to enter through this gate. The others who entered before me are not heard of, or seen, after they passed the wooden beams. Nobody ever returned, and the question remains if they wanted to. Without witnesses, there is no knowing what the other side is like. When the snow melts, so does the road. At that point the gate loses its magical characteristics and disappears. I waited for this snow, for this opportunity, for 5 years. Three more steps is all it takes. Flickers of doubt bombard my brain.

Then, suddenly, I see something from behind one of the trees. A sparkle of gold, then another one and another. They float through the air like dancing fireflies. I have never seen energy form the other world, nobody has. This sight awakens bravery in me. That kind of bravery that you are sure you will regret one day. The dancing sparks of gold start to illuminate a golden shine. It is calling me.

I set one foot in front of the other. I feel pulled towards and pushed back at the same time. Another step, one more and I will enter a gate that will close behind me, never to reopen again. The pull is winning, the bravery is pushing me. I lift my foot up and slowly move my boot through the layer of energy unnoticeable when untouched. My boot changes colour, a warm summer colour and there is no more snow on it. Behind the gate there is no winter! Somehow, our eyes are deceived. I pull my boot back. It looks the same as it did before, no hint that anything had happened to it.

Bob and I

I have this big palm plant in my living room. I named him Bob. He is a bit big for his surrounding and needs a lot of light so he gets shoved around a lot. Either he is placed in front of the TV next to the window so he can catch the sunrays... or he is pushed almost into the dining table so I can watch TV.

Bob would have a lot to say to me if he could speak. He gets pushed around and has no place of his own. The rough handling has caused some of Bob’s leave tips to turn a bit brown. Nevertheless, he is a gorgeous green growing and expanding plant. You cannot ignore Bob when entering the living room. He’s got all the good looks.

Have you heard of this saying that pet owners start looking like their pets? Bob has a good looking character that I do not mind copying here and there. He never lets his leaves hang because he is in a situation he doesn’t like. When I forget to water him, he just waits for better times. When I water him and allow him the enjoyment of sunshine, his energy explodes. He grows new leaves and expands the older ones. He is stubborn and will make something of himself no matter what.

Not only is Bob providing me with free oxygen, he is an inspiration! 

Bergedorf, Hamburg, Germany

The end of the track. Nature took back what onces belonged to her, without destroying nor hiding the evidence. She doesn't experience shame in changing what is.

Nature is an old lady, but do not underestimate her flexibility, her wisdom or her power. She has seen generations of humans come and go. She remembers what Earth looked like before humans populated him. She doesn't rejoice or grieve, nor does she build opinions or judge. She simply is, and has been, for so long.

Some time back, humans came and built a train track here, allowing trains to race back and forth. Nature saw the trains and she had to pull back a bit as the track and the products of her empire couldn't live together. When the trains stopped, Nature started to decorate the iron bars and wooden beams. She never judged their presence, she wasn't bitter over the passed forced retreat. Iron came from her friend Earth, and the beams were, before their human induced transformation, a creation of her own empire. Just because they changed, didn't make them less or more valuable then what they were before.

What may look like a destructive scene to the human eye, is a welcome home decoration carefully draped around it by Nature herself. The track may look neglected, destroyed and deprived of its purpose to some of us. Nature sees and admires the new shape of things that their change has brought.

Thekla haus, Geesthacht, Germany

On the edge of the forest, not far from the Elbe River I found an abandoned, boarded up, mansion. It stood there in its serene silence, like a shadow of a vibrant past. Strange aqua colored structures mounted from the roof, scattering the bright spring sunshine. On top of the small main entrence tower it read '1898'. I felt I had stumbeled upon a treasure.

In my mind I saw carriges coming and going. Woman wearing light colored corset dresses, large straw summer hats with pastel coloured ribbons, holding delecate lace decorated parasols. Men with grey and light brown suits, modest top hats, generous mostages and canes. An energetic and sun light filled scene from the 19th century upper class enjoying their summer spa, filled my inner eyes.

As I walked around to the back of the building, I noticed some of the windows on the second floor were not boarded up. I was somewhat disappointed to find white hospital like curtains in front of those windows. I looked around and saw narrow stairs towards two basement doors. My happy and serene feeling started to make way for a feeling of unease. Something was wrong, there was no sense of happiness here. I forced myself to take a peak into the little path connecting the two basemend doors. There was nothing but mudd and old leaves down there. Too late! My inner eye had cought onto the feeling of fear and projected a rotting male corpse with a facial expression of pure terror laying between the leaves in the mudd.

I quickly walked backward, then turned around and found my way back to the foot path. I wanted to be back at the safe and sunny side of the building. I wanted to forget about the shadow side. A few brief moments I was very relieved to leave this 'treasure' behind me as I continued my forest walk. From further down the path the building looked peacefull and beautiful again. The distance seemed to eliminate the gohst radiance, making me laugh at myself for allowing my imagination to scare me.

Once I got home my curiosity ordered me to find out what this structure in forest actually was. I found that in 1898 this 'Thekla haus' was build to treat the poor who suffered from Tuberculosis. It was sponsored by the wealthy so that the patients could be treated for free. More then 100 sick people under the care of 1 doctor and 3 nurses. This building was indeed not a happy place. Though build to offer hope and health, many suffered inside its walls. Some may have entered through the main entrence sick and exited healthy rejoicing in the second chance they were given in life. Others came in through those doors but never managed to walk back out. Their bodies exited the building trough a back door, the only direct way out of the basement mortuarium.

London, UK.

Every house shelters life. Every door grands access to someone's soul. Every lid up window lights the way too a story. Enlightment can uncover a dimension strange too one, yet the only truth too another. More than 60 lights equals more than 60 truths, existing at the same time... parallel but interwoven.

Valkenburg, the Netherlands.

These caves were the refuge of many monks who were threatened in between 1790 and 1810. The caves are under a large castle that did not pass the test of time as these caves have.

These days the caves are a successful christmas market, selling ornaments and anything that glitters. For the locals this is an amazing economical boost.

Something inside of me was disturbed when seeying the wall paintings and old sanctuary, flooded in cheap lights and christmas trees. Bare with me in a thought experiment. Imagine with me that we walk through the caves accompanied by a monk who endured prosecution in 1800. He will see this christmas market and all the shoppers. Would he be delighted that persecution is over and freedom reighns, or would he be heart broken that the drawings and texts on the caves walls commemorating the suffering he and many others endured is walked over for economical gain?

South Lake, Earley, UK.

The autumn leaves have started to fall. The bright red and brown colours are so lively and energetic they take my breath away as I stare at the colour palets with pure astonishment. As I folow the path, I come across this empty bench looking over the lake through a gap in between the trees. Inside me the astonishment changes to a mix of intregue and curiosity. There are names mentioned on a small plack on the bench, names I never heard of before. A couple who lived around here, must have come to this spot often to enjoy the view and were given a bench in commemoration.

In my mind I can see them, an older couple for whom love never faded. They walk towards this place holding hands. She seems to be worried about something, and he also has a preoccupied look on his face. They sit down and stare over the water. After a few minutes she takes a deep breath and softly squeezes his hand. He turns his head too look into her eyes and sees her love for him reflected in them. On her mouth there's a small ecouraging smile. He knows very well what she is saying, there are no words needed for that. "We will manage this together, and we will be fine. This too shall pass, like all the other things that have come and gone before it." is the clear message she is sending him.

She is right and it makes him laugh a bit realizing how worried he has been over something so small in comparison to the strength they have together. She answers his laugh by widening her smile. He folds his hands around hers and gives them a firm but loving squeeze back. Their attention returns too the water and now they notice the swans calmy swimming by, framed in bright red and gold colors coming from a dazzeling sunset. A beauty that is in the eye of the beholders.

Reading University Campus, UK.

There ain't nothing rotten about these pritty mushrooms. Seeying this during a morning walk makes the path you're on so much more enjoyable, don't you think?

Reading, UK.

An escape in the middle of town. A garden to forget the speed of your surroundings. Is this today, is this yesterday? May I put on a long summer dress, and ribbons in my hair? Can I have tea at this table completely disconnected from time?

Oxford, UK. I went to see Oxford, thinking this would be a great inspiration for a more excellent academic life style. At the end of a wonderful day roaming around this beautiful old city, filled with tradition and pride, I did not feel that inspiration in as much depth as expected. It was there, but a light version.

It shared its place with a feeling of content. I found that I may not have had the means nor the brains to go to a private university, but I did pritty darn good in the public one. A public university that in my field is higher on the world ranking then this posh expensive private one, to be exact. Still, the world knows 'Oxford', how many of you know 'Wageningen'?

The history of the two universities may not be comparable, and the prestige that comes with Oxford I may not have. However, I got the training I wanted, I have the job I love and a future filled with exactly the same potential as all Oxford alumni.