Flags for a day; a day that was...

Koningsdag! I would normally wake up early, camera in tow and roam the streets of my city of Delft to take photos of the day's celebration in honour of King Willem-Alexander's birthday who was born on April 27 (1967). It is a day for the country's denizens to "let-your- hair-down" in the name of gezelligheid (good fun): faux orange boa feathers around the neck, orange wigs, hats, sunglasses, painted faces with the national flag and anything that one can adorn themselves in the national colour of orange.

Before it became Koningsdag, we have been celebrating Koninginnedag (Queen's Day) on April 30 when King Willem's mother, Beatrix Wilhelmina was on the throne as Queen of The Netherlands (from 1980) until her abdication in 2013. It was to commemorate the day of her ascension to the throne and to remember another former Queen's birthday, Queen Juliana, her mother, the grandmother of the present King. It has always been a one day of long festivities, musical performances, beer-drinking and the never-to-be-missed selling of second-hand or maybe third-hand goods that line up many streets of the country.

This year was different. I took time to leave home, spending more time stroking the cat who gave her quiet purrs as if telling me that it is more rewarding to stay home than to be out there taking photos. But, it was a beautiful, sunny weather and I couldn't resist the call. Our local band, the Drumguards is no longer here to give a prelude to the day's celebration.Their lease at the space underneath the viaduct across me was up and they disbanded just before this pandemic came and because there is no more financial support from the government. Now, there was no more Drumguards and other bands to hear. This corona thing has changed everything we do today.

I walked around the neighbourhood and along the way, there were people sunning themselves while observing the so-called social distancing, some have small family gatherings on the pavement outside their doors, not whining about the situation but wining. The Dutch flags coupled with an orange strip of cloth displayed outside people's windows, danced with the sometimes strong wind, I have to wait to get a good shot. Some didn't mind, and some oogled at me as if I was an intrusion into their privacy. As I said, there were no bands playing music on the streets or at the plaza (Market Square) and there were no people joining in a singing. There were no second-hand items and their sellers lining the pavements and with all honesty, I do not miss them.

Even a dog adds life to a quiet celebration.

As I continued my walk towards the city centre, I spotted a single table with old books and trinkets but I chose to take this photo of a lone musical toy instrument instead, ready for sale.

Wearing colours of the Dutch flag embellished with sequins on a hairband, this sweet and pretty young girl who was skipping beside me caught my attention and agreed to smile for my camera. Click! I should have asked for her name.

Then there were those young adults who wanted to celebrate the day by belching their voices in singing from their open windows to empty streets below, their voices were more of a nuisance than a gesture of appreciation from the few passers-by. Another group of students across the street with their mismatched tunes were in competition to this window. I didn't bother pointing my camera at their direction.

The Market Square in its almost solitary state brings serenity and I am happy to see how majestic the Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) as it towers over us in splendour, minus the throng of people that floods this place during the summer months, the peak of the tourist season. Who knows, it may also be different this year. Just two Sundays ago, I was inside this beautiful church with just six people, and sang on the second Sunday after Easter to an empty congregation with an organist who played the ever awesome Messiah from Handel's Hallelujah Chorus from the church's giant pipe organ. The service was broadcasted online.

During King's Day, there is usually a huge stage erected in the middle of the Market Square where several bands attract a sea of people, some sober and some not from all that discounted beers in barrels, and you could hardly swim in the thickness of it.

The church interior with stained glass windows and the mausoleum of William of Orange in the foreground. This photo was taken two weeks ago from my old Samsung mobile phone that has now been laid to rest for not wanting to breathe life anymore.

I continued my walk down the Nieuwe Kerk where usually there would have been a scene of people sitting in front of their doors in their jovial mood of drinking, eating, singing, story-telling and barbecuing. Today, it was just a handful of people licking their ice cream cones and sitting at the side of the canal and a few people of different languages milling about taking photos of historical buildings and smiling at themselves (I find it funny) as they take their Selfie's. Even the quaint Emauspoort hotel beside is deserted, its Roman blinds pulled down indicating, no admittance.

I glanced once again at the side lawn of the Nieuwe Kerk with the statue of a lady standing at peace with herself (I tried researching about the statue but to no avail), and l gazed at the spirals of the Roman Catholic church nearby, they all seem to say, "be strong and take courage."

I turned the opposite direction where restaurants and snack bars are usually packed with people. For the first time, I saw a glimpse of a bare city that I am actually appreciating without the crowd. I am liking the quietness of it all. Above all, there is a clean smell of air replacing the usual cigarette smoke-filled areas of the city especially at this time. But deep inside me, I am feeling sad and sorry that there are many who were left jobless by this vicious virus and those beer bars that were open on King's Day had no one knocking at their doors. The restaurants that were open have become merely pick-up points for orders.

I headed back home and passed other small lanes devoid of people, just windows with flags unfurled.

Just as I thought this day is like any other day since the lockdown, I came across a window with two lovely cats enjoying a breath of fresh air and watching the silent celebration come to a close (wish they had known). For now, there is no traffic of people in front of them to make them hide from where they are peacefully sitting. There was just me to take their photo and for a short while, enjoy their cuteness. I had a good and satisfying walk after all. And soon the flags will be folded and kept till the next celebration. I wonder how next year will be and will the cats be here for another photograph? I also have one waiting at home.