Nuenen Part 3
We return to Nuenen one last time. Specifically, we return to your father’s church.
I found this bench nearby filled with yellow flowers to be terribly symbolic. Apparently your father and your still-born older brother (also named Vincent and born exactly one year before you…) are buried nearby, but I did not notice their graves… Then, again, maybe they are at the bottom of this picture. Either way, I was too absorbed in Yellow.
Then I went around the back to get a closer shot of the bell tower…
And just as I took this photo, the church burst into song.
Apparently it was 6pm, and the hymn was Angelus. This I would not find out for months. At the time, I was chilled. At precisely that moment, the rain stopped, and I knew it was time to go.
On my way out, I ran into the street named for your lover there, Margot:
And right underneath that sign, these tender flowers…
She was delicate too, and folded under the pressure of both you and her parents pulling her in opposite directions. She tried to commit suicide by ingesting poison right before she saw you. Luckily, you saved her life.
As I finally began to walk away from that lovely town, I saw – you and her. Together.
Next week, we go to Paris! Delicious!
The photographs are remarkable! This is such a delicately-etched entry. You let me sense some of what you must have been feeling in this holy place.