Peeking Through

I had intentions to post about something else entirely today.

But I am annoyed.

And frustrated.

The noise started early this morning, maybe 7:00 a.m., with an incessant whine of machinery. Large saws revving and humming; shouts of workers barking orders to one another; scraping noises--akin to fingernails on chalkboard--as equipment was dragged from spot to spot emanating from the space behind my house.

That was the annoying part.

The frustration began when I looked out my back window and saw what all the noise was about.

Ack! They were cutting down trees!

Our row of houses sits parallel to a long row of flats, 5 stories high. Between the cinder block wall of our back garden and the apartment building there is some garden space. Perhaps 50' of area separates us, which until today was planted in towering trees. Beautiful tall trunks, with massively large branches full of brilliant green foliage spilling out in multiple directions. Trees that shaded my yard and granted us a little bit of privacy

Living here, I have grown accustomed to the idea that the residents of floor 5 in that adjacent building have a bird's eye view into our garden. Not that there is much to see. Okay, yes, on occasion there is a diaper-less preschooler strutting his stuff in the yard, digging in the dirt and splashing in his water box. More often though, it is my daughter or I snuggled into the plastic chaise, soaking up sunrays and ingesting a book. As a family, we love to have dinner in the back if the sun is shining. I like to sit at the teak wood table with a morning cup of coffee; an afternoon glass of wine, even. I like believing I am alone out there. It has been a cozy haven and having those trees in the background was a crucial bit of that gezellig feeling.

Now they are gone.

Relentlessly felled and cut into manageable pieces, then dragged away.

I am frustrated. In my gut is stewing a deep disconcertion over the idea that residents of floors 2, 3, and 4 have joined the ranks of those who can see into my yard.

Frustrated. Annoyed. More than a little sad to see the trees go.

One of the crowning points of life in The Hague is the wooded areas and the tree lined streets. It is a gorgeous sea of green in this city when the spring sun sends its warmth to the branches and coaxes new leaves from winter gray branches.

In our front garden is a young oak tree. I have enjoyed every stage from bud to leaf throughout the spring. Watching that new life blossom is inspiration beyond words for me. With each unfolding leaf, I felt that I was unfolding too. Shedding the bark-like protection of winter and opening my whole soul to the sun and the possibilities of summer.

I welcome summer in ways that are difficult for me to divulge fully. I love the summer. I want the summer. I need the summer. Every moment I can get. Every drop of sunshine it brings.
I wanted to do all that needing and wanting and loving, privately in my back yard.

However, that is not my lot.

A gaping hole in the green with a view of brick building and rows of windows will be my companion this summer.

Undaunted, I will still be there, sopping up each and every moment of sunshine that comes our way this season.

Moreover, I will raise my glass--Cola Light with ice--to peering eyes and drink to the memory of my trees.

Where the trees used to be.

15 Summer Fun Moments

Apparently, yesterday was the FIRST DAY OF SUMMER. Also quite apparent is the fact that the weather gods of The Netherlands didn't get the memo. Our area of the country ushered in summer with an all day rainstorm, complete with thunder bursts, which followed nearly a week of rain. And before that, there was a little rain. And cooler temps than what my brain equates with the advent of summer.

To be fair, if there is balance to these kinds of things, we were due for a little cool down and some rain. We've had a gloriously, untypically warm spring in Holland. I have many days of sun kissed skin as proof, and the camera is full of photos of the kids on the beach. That it all happened BEFORE summer's official start is a bonus I suppose. And you won't hear me complaining about those shots of sun we've had already, and are sure to come again.

However, the gods of the Friday Fifteen have suggested a themed entry this week and because summer is on the minds of all y'all whose summers have already begun, I will do my best to comply.
With the rain falling in earnest outside I will share some of my favorite summer sun moments, past and present. Further, because I am an optimist, I will share what the summer fun just may bring us in future!

PAST

(my past)

1. A single quarter in my pocket and a walk to Winder Dairy just a few blocks from our home. My eight-year-old self giddy with excitement as I stepped into the small air-conditioned store ready to spend my money. What would I choose? Popsicle Bullet with its 3 flavors of ice? Creamsicle with orange outside and creamy vanilla tucked in? Or a chocolaty-yummy Fudgesicle?
Mmmm.... Summer delicious on a stick!

2. Slip and Slide in the backyard. After two trips down the plastic stretched out on the lawn, my belly is sore from launching full force down the slide, and my legs covered in grassy bits picked up from the yard. And the air is filled with laughter!

3. Our Ambassador station wagon stuffed to its limits with neighborhood kids, on our way to Fairmount Pool, where the admission was free if you were with an adult. It didn't seem odd that my parents had 12 kids? Oh, no. This was Utah!

4. Early morning rise to fill the canteens, the knapsacks, and slather the sunscreen. Our family hike to the tip of Mount Olympus in Salt Lake City, will take us all day and will be a family victory at the top, each of us signing our name on the postcards, inserting them into the mailbox on the uppermost peak. Jennie was here!

5. A single rope swing, attached to a giant tree of unknown variety. Wrapping legs and arms around the rope, while cousins and brothers launch me outward over the swimmin' hole. And at the count of three, release and crash-splash into the wet for a taste of ice cold pond water. Whee!

PRESENT

(recent past with kids)

6. Finishing up an afternoon splash in the pool with Ian and Emma. Stepping out of the water and toweling down, changing clothes to return to our apartment for afternoon napping. Two-year-old Emma says "Just a minute, I want to do something" then strips the water wings from her arms, jumps from the side back into the water, and.... SWIMS! Emma swims? My baby swims! Who needs those silly things on your arms anyway?

7. Sweating on the sidelines as Ian runs the field, chasing a soccer ball. His Great-Grandpa cheering as loudly as any other at the game. impressed by the stamina of the kids on the pitch. He will forever ask Ian after this game, "How's it going with your soccer, son?"

8. Introducing 2-month old baby Andrew to the backyard pool at our Arizona home. Clad in the tiniest set of swim shorts seen on the planet, I carry this wide-eyed boy into the water first letting it tickle his toes and then seep upwards on his legs until he is immersed in the warmth to his belly button. Snuggling tightly in my arms, he looks up at me and grins.

9. Preparing for what will be my final concert with my students before we move to Holland, I host a backyard tie-dye and swim party. The shirts these kids make will be part of their costumes at the dance performance. And the swimming seems the best way to wash off after coloring our skin with the vibrant dyes. Oh, and the laughter and memories? Yeah, that's good too.

10. Packing the towels, the snacks, the sunscreen, and the juice boxes into the beach bag and schlepping all of that and three kids to Sun Splash water park. There we meet my cousin with 3 of her 6 kids for an unforgettable afternoon of water, sun and fun.

FUTURE

(what the summer is sure to bring us this year)

11. Bike rides to Kijkduin beach. Sand sculptures, buried toes, shell-finding treasure searches.

12. Summer sunsets over the ocean. Toasting the end of the day at a boardwalk restaurant.

13. Exploring the air conditioned insides of The Hague's art museums, for when the summer heat does arrive.

14. A road trip when my parents come, through Luxembourg, toward the Alps. A stay in Praz sur Arly for holiday fun.

15. Photographs. Lots of them. And memories.