Bellevue beach

"Can I get your bottle, please" he said, my childhood friend, standing beside me, as I hold the bag, that contained all the bottles we collected since our last walk to the shop

Sitting in history

I pick the motive in the middle, like it, it reminds me of opening the drawer, where my granddad kept all the things he didn't know where to put.

The diary

I washed my hands and walked back out in the sunlight, back to the table in front of the smokehouse, where she sat... looking at me with my diary open in her hands... "That is some stories there, Frits" She said

The old chapel

Back many centuries ago the herrings were plenty here, and people would come from afar to fish, buy and sell, celebrate and all the things nobody talked about, but in the small chapel, that was build out here - and is still here.

Waiting for my daughter

Some days I wait, as if phones didn't exist, and I couldn't check Facebook and Twitter, just wait, sit and watch the places, take out my watercolors and pass the time

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