IN THE IR. BOS HEEMPARK

where the tiny pond is, with wild flowers around it. there were many butterflies
and I kneeled down in the wet earth to come near this little blue one. I always love to see her black eyes, they remind me of the drawings I cherished in the children's book of Lidow, the marvel of my youth. The magic of the butterflies.
The picture shows a Polyommatus icarus. the Common blue.
From the park I went to the sea, very high surfs, and Piet Hein and I went for a minute in it and not too far of course.
The rescue boat sailed along the beach standing up to the waves, an exiting sight to see it going up and down again.

My haiku:

Her sweet black eyes where
Did I see them earlier
In my tender youth

And the proverb:

The tide turns at low water as well as at high.