Jan Aalbers’ parents lived on a small farm on the edge of Heijenoord suburb, not far from were we lived.
So the Sunday afternoons, in sunshine or snow, we were now getting used to visit Opa and Oma in our Sunday best and polished shoes. We walked the brick-paved streets and past the red tiled houses of Heijenoord neighbourhood to come to sandy or a snowed under track called Klim en Daal.
On the left were the sloping fields of the Aalbers farm and on our right we could smell the roses (in Springtime) of nurseryman Damsté.
Right in the middle of the picture steps Jan Aalbers, showing he’s breathing and the snow squeaking under his feet, on the way to his parental home for a visit.