Early this morning, I cut through a dense fog, making my way to the nearby seaport of Noordpolderzijl. The port, hidden in the northern landscape of the Waddenzee (wadden sea (EN), Wattenmeer (DU)) is the port of call of small fishing boats and the point of departure or arrival of people who, under guidance of an experienced guide, venture out on the muddy at low tide. The Waddenzee is classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The long canal from the wadden sea to main quay has lost much of its depth through siltation. During late autumn and winter, this part of our northern landscape is mainly empty. Some visitors arrive and leave, but most hours of the day the only thing you see is the sea and the many birds that feed on creatures that live in the mud.
This morning was particularly beautiful. Inland, behind me, the fog was dense, but here it was just grey and serene, with a light haze, nearly no wind and an indefinable light that came from everywhere.
I am always attracted to the worn and tarnished bollards with their zinc or whitewashed caps and patches of lichen.
The islands which are normally visible – even the German island of Borkum with its hotels and lighthouse – were hidden by the mist. It was high tide, so most of the birds were either swimming or resting on the bollards and street lights. It was still, even the seagulls did not make any noise. A meditative moment before returning to the tasks of the day to come.
As I retreated to the land and the high dike that protects the north of the country from rising sea levels, the fog followed me and slowly closed in, subduing the light and colours. It was eight o clock, time to go home.
Inquisitive 