Autumn had also much charm, and my thoughts are going to that stretch of road, which was better known as ‘Boven Over’, where a double row of mature beech trees flanked the footpath for about 200 metres.
The footpath was at that time just as wide as the road, a pedestrian’s paradise.
We covered this road a thousand times but never blind to its beauty, the distant views over the river and far beyond.
Turning our back to the vista another scene unfolded before our eyes, a galloping Dr. Stuijt the surgeon on his horse returning home from an afternoon’s scalpel work at the hospital. But there under the colourful canopy of the beeches our eyes soon shifted downwards and our walk became a crawl.
The squirrels could only envy us in the eagerness we’ve shown, filling our pockets till overflowing with those little beechnuts. We peeled its tough smooth skin till our nails started to hurt, we ate them raw until our mouth was dry as a bone and the throat raspy. Finally we manage to arrive home asking Mum to stoke up the kitchen stove a little more as we dumped our harvest on the glowing metal. When they started to jump it was time to gather nuts and enjoy the warm tasty yield.