Zeeland, Holland- April highs

I was trying to decide whether the sky or the water were more blue. Until my thoughts were interrupted by some cold drops splashing my bare legs. Dad and I were in the middle of the Grevelingenmeer, a huge body of water which is in fact a lake although it could pass for the sea, so vast and endless it is. There we were, in a bright orange kayak, a stark contrast to the blue all around us.

We were in the midst of a heatwave that had us wrapped in its warm embrace; over a week of low 20s temperatures that came as an unexpected treat after all the cold weather. Mornings, I would open my bedroom window wide. The sun was rising, the sky a clear and fresh blue, maybe tinted with some pinkish clouds. The blackbirds would be singing, in the distance, the hum of early traffic. I could lie back in bed, and savour the day to come.

Prunie, Suzi and I spent most of the day outside. From the morning, we would be out, listening to the dawn chorus, as the sun crept up past the hedges, spilling light across the patio. The sunshade would be opened out, and we’d all shelter underneath during the heat of the day. Prunie, lying next to our chairs, snoring peacefully. Suzi would go and lie on the grass in the sun, flat out. In the distance, sheep on the dyke would call to their lambs.

Most mornings I went for a bike ride. The countryside seemed to pop with colour; white ragworts and bold yellow dandelions, against the brilliant green grass and the ever-blue sky. Fields of horses, farms selling cucumbers and pears. Miles of emptyness, the sun and the sky for company. Sometimes I’d bike past the lake, flecked with sailboats. And I’d stop to say hi to the sheep, pet the lambs, watch them frolic in the long grass. On one ride, a bird of prey coasted alongside me, before resuming its lonely flight.

When we went kayaking, it was another cloudless day. The sky was so big it seemed to fill you with energy, jet trails disappeared into the blue in every direction. Wind turbines in the distance, fish jumping beneath the kayak. Nothing but the sound of our paddles on the water. After a while we rested the paddles on our laps, the sun on our backs, barely moving, since the water was so still, and clear enough to see down to the bottom.

Some days we went for a drive with the dogs, since they love that so much. One day, to fields of tulips nearby. We didn’t need to battle the Keukenhof, there were lines and lines of the iconic flowers, in every shade from fuchsia to Dutch orange. Other days, meandering over narrow dyke roads. Where snowy white cows would wait and watch us, jostling like bison for a drink from the feeder.

Evenings, we would all be outside. Sitting around the large table, recalling the day’s adventures. Laughing about old stuff, and musing about new. On Suzi’s birthday, we sang to her, and then she ate four pieces of cheese and a whole fish fillet, just for her. We even had two BBQs, curtesy of dad, the charcoal smell drifting off into the evening breeze. Finally, by eight, we’d slowly start to shiver, fight over Opa’s fleece or my ‘hippie’ one, and then eventually, all move inside.

Two weeks went by way faster than should be allowed. And now I’m wondering when the next time will be when my only worry is whether the sky or water is bluer…

Yes, its back to work and reality. Another shout-out to Suzi and dad since April is their month. I love you Beanie and miss you and your sister so much already xxxxxx And dad, I miss our adventures. Looking forward to more soon xxxx