Catalog About The Science Suggest a Place

countryside

Haarsteeg, North Brabant, somewhere between Hedikhuizen and the village proper. Easter weekend, and the polder has thrown its doors open to spring. The sky is wide and Dutch — the kind of sky that takes up most of the world here — and the wind moves through in soft, irregular pulses, brushing the microphone now and then like a curious animal. Far off, the church bells of Vlijmen ring out across the fields, slow and unhurried, holiday bells with nowhere to be. Birds scatter their voices through the air, a chorus thinned out by distance: a finch here, a blackbird there, and somewhere among them, a cuckoo, repeating its small two-note miracle into the afternoon. A public bench sits just out of frame, and cyclists keep arriving — the country has more bicycles than people and today it shows — pausing to rest, trading bits of conversation that drift in and out of earshot, Dutch vowels rolling soft across the grass. A bell rings as someone passes. A moped buzzes through, briefly indignant. Then the polder reclaims itself: wind, birds, bells, the faint hum of a country at ease. Lie back in the grass, close your eyes, and you are already there.

Hedikhuizen – Netherlands klankbeeld

— quiet, please.

About The Science Suggest a Place Changelog [email protected]

© 2026 Ignacio Palomo