Sunday, November 30

Last Dance

Early this morning there was snow falling in The Hague. A rare occurrence for certain, and one which tends to be a fleeting moment in the wet, wet, wet of Holland. It takes a delicate combination of timing and temperature for a snowfall to last more than a very few minutes here.

Andrew announced the arrival of the flakes as he barged into our bedroom and pulled open the long black curtains. "It's snowing guys, look. It's snowing. Now it's winter!"
It took me just a few seconds to adjust my gaze and take in the pattern of flakes drifting delicately from the low clouds but as I rolled onto my side under the heavy down comforter the view I saw was spectacular. Just outside my bedroom window long tracks of snowflakes were streaming downward, catching a breeze, fluttering, turning, drifting, falling to the surfaces below; dancing past the branches of our garden trees, kissing the edges of leaves still clinging tightly. Perhaps because it is so rare in this land of rain (to say nothing of having lived in the Arizona desert for 12 years where that kind of weather pattern simply doesn't exist) I found the morning snow altogether mesmerizing and felt immediately sucked in to track patterns with my eyes, catch single flakes falling and contemplate the journey they were on and where it may next take them.

As I am wont to do in any situation, I started looking for the metaphors. What was happening outside my balcony doors seemed poetic and were I an artist I could paint the picture by word or by brush stroke of the moment's beauty.

Ultimately, here is what I was thinking as I watched the snow bob and weave through the last of the autumn leaves clinging to their perches.I am journeying too. We are a journeying people. There are moments in life where that statement is more literal than figurative, but I get it that we are always on the move. The theme of moving is my life's song. From house to house, state to state, and continent to continent there have been multiple moments for me to catch the breeze and dance my way to new homes, new cities, new friends, new life. And in between the house moves there is the constant motion of life on the move. Not to overextend the introspection here I must repeat it simply. I get it. We are always on the move. Just like the snowflakes falling outside, touching down lightly and lingering only momentarily, we move. We move, we love, we dance, we say goodbye, we say hello, we say I love you. And we keep moving.

Andrew was absolutely right. A new season is here.

And I am swept away.


  1. I love when you "move" me through your writing! Well stated, once again!

    miss you!

  2. Friends of mine spent their entire morning sipping coffee and watching the snow. It can truly be mesmerizing.

    Lovely post.

  3. Just like Jen in MI wrote, lovely post.

    We had wet rain and hail here.

  4. did it snow in The Hague yesterday? really? it didn't snow in Belgium.

    but the weekend before, you did get snow as well, didn't you? Kate had pictures up.

  5. That's lovely. I can picture the flakes floating down past your window--very moving.

  6. What would you do without your little announcer of things? ;)

  7. wow. I'm going to pay attention next time it snows. Growing up in New England I watched a lot of snow fall. And it's still mesmerizing.