It is a Sinterclaus dance party with balloons and music and dancing. Sinterclaus is like our Santa and sits upon a throne looking chair. His helpers are called black Peter because they are the ones who slide down the chimneys with gift from Sinterclaus. Up on the festive stage, children and their families are welcomed. Each little one stands before Sinterclaus and with their family is photographed as the helpers dance around in jubilation and merriment. I see three little ones dressed in medieval garb who are waiting for their turn to dance but they do not wait still. They’ve have caught the spirit of the season and joy expands as they do.

Waterland

Take me to Waterland where there are paths of water separating the paths for cars and bicycles alike. In front and behind the houses the mini canals flow as well. The living green of the land falls away to the right and the blowing brown grasses to the left shielding the cows and horses. Driveways, like floating docks, connect the historic quaint houses over the water to the one lane road. Small villages, each one with an old church, anchor the land at random intervals. It is all surrounded by the protected land of the bird conservation area. Amsterdam’s skyline can be seen in the distance like a distant frame.

My heart lives here. My spirit cries within me to stay; to never leave; to find a way to remain connected to that which cannot be held. The beauty and peacefulness of this land speaks to my depths as if it calls me to God Himself. And I suppose it does. It is God who anchors my soul, Who offers me His ultimate beauty and peace. These villages do not need a church building to anchor them. They have the land itself; this land of living water.

AmsterdamAnne

November 20, 2021

We sit at the edge at one of the cafes that cross the street from the main Maastricht Square. The prominent, exquisite architecture of the 13th century churches rise up before us. The Protestant Church with its sentinel red tower overlooks it all. 

I am tired and my feet hurt and this distracts me from grief but it allows gratitude to bubble up between the aches. 

Thank you, God for this most amazing day. I stand in the Maastricht Vrijhof square and close my weary eyes.

I hear the motors of distant vehicles. There is the gentle tinkling of bicycles pedaling past behind me and the lyrical deep,undulating voices from the row of cafes across from me. Cool, crisp air fills my lungs as I appreciate what I once shared with Philip here where we once danced and I now share with my beste Elske and Marijo. We will always have Maastricht, my friend and friends.

The cobblestone roads (Or are they brick?) make paths through this river city which we walk and share with the plentiful bikes and less frequent cars. They are at times uneven but the character they lend is nothing but charm. Tall buildings meet the sidewalk like a slot canyon meets the inner path. Some have winkles, Dutch for stores, and restaurants on their street levels, some with housing above. Maastricht is an old city with new imaginative reuses. All decorated for Sinterclaus with magical lights and garlands. It inspires me to overcome sadness with the inklings of celebration 

And celebrate we do at Elske’s son Micah’s home. Eggplant risotto with my favorite Pofferjets for first dessert and for second dessert a sampling of the musical talents of Micah and Annuk. 

What a perfect way to end our time in the city Philip and I cherished together.

I am thankful,

AmsterdamAnne

November 19, 2022

I grew up looking through my father’s eyes at

I grew up looking through my father’s eyes at Van Gogh and his Starry, Starry Night. He loved Don McClean’s song Vincent as well.  On my first visit to Amsterdam with Philip, we went to the Van Gogh museum because of my dad. There we fell in love with Vincent and each other.  Philip had such a wonder about him that trip. Whether it be Van Gogh’s wheat fields or his flowers, Philip was giddy with the experience, so many new things to explore that he had never considered before.

I went the Van Gogh immersive exhibit in Phoenix recently. The wall sized, 360°, moving paintings put to music were amazing. The paintings brought to life Van Gogh’s masterpieces. 

So, of course, I wanted to go to his museum in Amsterdam. I blew past the works that didn’t inspire me and went right for the ones that did.

His “View of the Sea” with the exquisite light on water; his “Reformed church in Nuenen” which he painted to honor his dad who was a Pastor there, with it’s dark, hallowed feel; his “Pink Peach Tree” with its lacy white flowers that make me feel as if I could step into it’s world; and “At Eternity’s Gate” of a worn out, anguished man ready to be done.

I love all these but my favorite, in house, is the “Almond Blossoms”.  The turquoise shading with delicate branches and blossoms fill me with proof that the world should go on if only for the beauty of these colors. I stand for a bit before it to let the colors sink into my own weary, sometimes sorrowful, soul.  It waters my dry places with it’s message of life.

AmsterdamAnne

November 18, 2021

Anne Frank House

Downtown Amsterdam

“May we light our own torches with the incandescence of her spirit.”

“All her would-haves are our opportunities”

Emma Thompson

I walk through Anne’s story as I walk through her secret annex. Such overwhelming fear and uncertainty and yet “I hope…” Anne writes.

In the most desperate times, she hopes. She hopes to be a famous writer one day. She hopes to capture the value of words in her book of beautiful words. She hopes to change the world when she leaves the annex.

“I hope…”, she says.

I just want to sit with that.

I want to let the “incandescence of her spirit” wash over me. 

I want to consider all her would-haves and honor her life and the million of lives taken with intentionality and hope in my own opportunities. 

I want to hope as she hoped with light and life to inspire others.

AmsterdamAnne

November 18, 2021

November, 2021

As I sit on the bench in the Muiderslot Castle garden, I pay tribute to you my love. We came here at our very beginning. We were fresh and new to each other and full of wonder as we discovered the castle and the city and beyond together.

You knew you loved me back then but I was too afraid to admit I could be loved. Your persistence and truth, that began here, brought me with you until I learned to believe. Your patience waited until I could love in return. 

The garden is brown in the cold and damp of winter beneath the grey and clouded sky. It’s lush potential dormant until the Spring, a distant memory away. 

I came here to say goodbye and leave you here in the place where we began. I thought I would need some moments alone to leave a teary tribute but am surprised, instead, to find only gratitude.

You did not always love me well but you always loved me and I, you. Our undercurrent of connection never failed, even now. Just as the timid crocus blooms on this crisp, misty day amid the winter bleakness, I remember and my heart blooms in gratitude for the privilege we had in loving one another.

Blessed,

AmsterdamAnne 11/16/2021

Morning:

Look up Anne. See the glory of my creation and let it heal your soul. Listen to the bird song It is Me singing over you with joy and thanksgiving as I see you become who I’ve made you to be. The beauty all around you is just a glimmer of who you are becoming every time you seek My presence and bask in the glory of My creation.

Breath in My fragrance. Hold it in your lungs. Breathe it out. In with My mercy. Out with My grace

Watch the hook nosed white birds in their circle over the water, dancing to the music they make themselves for Me. It is the beauty and the rhythm of life in each wing flap. They touchdown on the water to swirl around again. 

Breathe in.

Breathe out. 

Be still,

And know that I am God.

Afternoon:

I spent the day smiling today in Kampen, Elske’s hometown.

There is Autumn in the trees and winter in the air. Colored leaves of gold and red litter the garden park paths along the river and canals. While the green grass illuminates the in betweens.

Marijo and I walked the narrow stone streets of the medieval city of Kampen. Towering old buildings with bright, inviting shops decorated for Christmas. There are lighted garlands connecting the building tops above. It is a magical place.

Her dad has lived here for most of his 90 years. From his seat in his living room, he regales us with his walking history book tales. He has a way of elevating history from stuffiness to joy and we leave smiling.

AmsterdamAnne

November 17, 2021

Philip I miss you. You would not have gone on this trip with me but you would have been eager to hear my stories. 

Fifty times a day I see something I want to share with you and every time my heart cramps as reality pokes me.  I still can’t believe you’re gone.

I saw a simple shoe horn…cramp

The hot sauce at dinner…cramp

Buying coffee at the market…cramp

Talking about grandpas…cramp

Gazpacho, salsa soup…cramp

Our daily cooks…cramp

The easy conversations about covid are not easy for me. I have been mysteriously devoid of covid fear these past months but I am always wondering why others discuss the possibility of death without awareness.

Even here in Africa I am constantly reminded  your strengths and talents. 

You would have been friends with all of the translators, all of the locals, all of the cooks…like you were in Nicaragua. 

Your wonder at discovering every new animal or rash or food or coffee.

You would have been out there fixing the generator unaware that you were a hotel guest and not a local. 

You would have had a whole soccer game going in the dirt with a tennis ball.

I am left dreaming of my life without you. It is bittersweet. So many possibilities…I know that

God has something for me that could not be accomplished with you and this is hope filling. I know that full well but my heart aches with prospect of not sharing it with you…

TanzaniaAnne

November, 2021

I love to listen to the birds’ song in all it’s variation and melody, the fluttering palm leaves. I close my eyes and gently sway to the rhythm of life. The lush green rainforest falls away from me down the hill and up again on the other side, layers of hills until the green is dimmed and lost in the moving misty cloudcover beyond. 

The feel of cool wind on my face, softly twirling my hair; the smell of the rainforest and fragrance of wet dirt fill my awareness to completeness.

I breathe in deep and slow, pole pole my Swahili rafikis tell me, taking in my last day in Africa.

At the market, I am surprised to realize I have my whistle back. In the past, I have been known to whistle absentmindedly when my soul is particularly at rest and grateful. 

I hadn’t noticed it until today but I haven’t been whistling, maybe since January. Somehow this trip has unlocked my tight hold allowing my inner joy to peek out and whistle.

It has been a beautiful, stretching time this week and now this wondrous gift.

I am blessed indeed.

TanzaniaAnne

November, 2021

We are treated to a safari to end our time in Africa. Yesterday, we saw amazing landscape and animals in Tarangire National Park and today we travel to the Norongoro Crater. It is an immense enclosed area containing aunique ecosystem of animal and nature. Humans are visitors only here.

Serenget NP and Ngorongoro were a combined park in 1950. Soon after, they were split in two.   Maasai we’re given this Conservation area to live and have their herds. I’m told they live side by side with the wild animals but only on the crater edges above.

It is an extinct volcano crater and is considered by some to be the cradle of civilization. 

The first human footprints we’re discovered here. We drive into the park and it cradles us as we climb until we are above and within the rainforest as the Mountain roads climb to the sky . Soon, we have joined the clouds and now travel side by side with them.

Retired elephants cross from one side of crater to the other under massive trees of greeness with vines and moss blurring the tree outlines near the road. The leaves of those near the road are thick with dirt but just beyond in the vastness of the jungle rainforest, dense and deep they are untarnished. 

The wind is brisk with clouds blowing through at eye level, mist in the jungle lushness lending it’s allure to the magnificence.

At the top,  the crater expands before our eyes with the movement of the clouds sitting below in the scooped out valley . There are rumors of a rhino below and we race down to capture it if only in our imaginations.

As we descend, we leave the cloudy freshness and find the sun again. Its light on the leaves dancing with the shadows. 

We switchback 600 metres down to the crater’s edge.

There is a large lake in the caldera and we are told it is a salt lake. Fresh water fed but with no outlet which allows the animals to drink from the edges.

Large craggy thorn trees thrive here with wo inch long thorns in between green fern leaves. I wonder who is hearty enough to dine there.

We see plump Zebras and Elan, Africa’s largest antelope, elephants, wildebeest and 

40 rhinos who call the crater home…an underground spring and abundance of wildlife with water. Some call this secluded self contained valley the Garden of Eden. It is complete with the red fruit from the fig tree. 

In the grassland by the waters edge, zebras, antelope, gazelle, coribastard, buffalo wildebeests, and hyenas graze and drink peacefully alongside each other.  I would like to join them and live in the trees and have a vacation hut in the grassland.

I love the light and shadow on the hillsides, leaves and grasslands. It changes the landscape as it plays hide and seek with the wind. There is magnificent beauty in the contrasts.

TanzaniaAnne

November, 2021