Your mind drifts off as your teacher talks about the Dutch here in America. You picture moving windmills, clean scrubbed town streets, gorgeous tulips, the clacking of wooden shoes….

Suddenly you are standing in front of a wooden timbered square building with the sun in your eyes as it rises behind a river beyond. The trees on the hills opposite you have changed color and are starting to lose their leaves. October is slipping away.

Where are you? You look up a wide street climbing a hill behind you and see houses with narrow ends facing the street. Each has a fence outlining the lot, and small barns or sheds in back yards. You recognize the scene from some paintings you’ve seen in school. You’re in Dutch America, New Netherland! And the large river you see must be the Hudson, or as the Dutch called it, the North River.

How did you get here?

You shake off your confusion. Who cares? Here’s a chance to learn about the Dutch and get a good grade!

That is, if you can get back. But, hey, you’ll worry about that later.