Wednesday, March 19

Light Sight

Spring is making its definitive move for season debut here in The Netherlands. In between fits of rain, wind and hail the blue sky is making appearances, along with the occasional light, fluffy, white cloud.

That's a sight for sore eyes.

I spotted the first (for my eyes) cluster of tulips last week, sprung up in the meridian between roads, standing in all glory and full color.

I allowed for a tear to slide down my cheek upon that sight of first light.

Just a few days ago the first of my garden tulips opened its red head and welcomed the spotty sunshine into its petals.

That sight caused my heart to soar as I recognized in that moment the magic of a return to light. It's always astounding to me, after the onslaught of darkness, dreariness, and heaviness to witness the opening of the earth's soul and the welcome warmth of spring.

I can see clearly now.



  1. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind.
    It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiney day.

    And it is, from my window the spires of the Peace Palace perfectly silhouetted against soaring white clouds with a brilliant blue background.
    I know I am where I want to be.
    I know where my heart lies.
    I have unburdened my soul.
    And I am at peace.

  2. Of course, outside my window I see it's snowing now. Hehe.
    This country's weather is always full of surprises, eh?

  3. They predict with 100% certainty enough snow with Easter to ski in the Ardennes this weekend. We get the advise to use dark chocolate eggs for Easter to make sure the children find them.

    A Green Christmas and a White Easter, how ironic.

  4. :D Right now the sun is shining, oh wait. Nope. It's raining again. ;) Glad spring is on the way!

  5. I always wish Easter was in July - it just seems cruel to those of us in Northern climates to have these pretty light fabric dresses for, say, 3-year-olds, when it is going to be 41 degrees (5 C for those of you outside the United States). I sure hope all those three-year-olds wear their pretty new sweaters.

    And winter coats.

    We've got snow this morning too.

  6. And people ask me why I live on the Texas coastal prairie. Because I don't like cold and snow for half the year? (OK, and because I don't mind soul-robbing heat and humidity.) Every place has good and bad points ... just like people.

  7. Oh, glorious! Sometimes I think the only good thing about living in a crummy climate is that it takes both hope and faith to thrive.

  8. I am right here with you in the USA on the east coast praying, oh praying for the site of those is snowing right now.

  9. Thank you for that riot of color in front of the windmill.

    It's been raining furiously today, though the rain has stopped for now and I can see the bed of yellow jonquils across the yard.

    Goofball said, "A Green Christmas and a White Easter, how ironic." To which I add, "How global warming!"

  10. At least we know for sure Spring is on the way now!

  11. So, is that your second windmill? ;)

  12. I have been lurking here for awhile but am de-lurking to thank you for the hope of spring. We are leaving for Belgium and the Netherland this Saturday and have been watching the temperature drop. I'm crossing my finger for just a couple of days of Spring for both of us.

  13. Oh, look at that color! And I'm especially fond of tulips.

    Glad to see spring is coming your way. I'm still awaiting it here.