06.29.2013 - 06.29.2013
My memory of Amsterdam will forever be one of ten million perfect, undaunted windows, each with its companion vase or flower box. End of June and the days are long--stretching well past 10 pm--but brisk and biting when the sun hides. We are forever putting on and removing jackets, hoods, hats. Warmth is a tease--something to lure you into the sharp slap of wind that will whisk your breath away. Now the gleaming windows make sense: no screens to dull them because who would open her window to this weather, or, opening it, what insect would inhabit the place long enough to breed a family, whose members would dart through and bother a human? Just an errant bumblebee supping a rose, perhaps.
But I jest. The cool air is refreshing after tropical humidity. And Amsterdam is as lovely as promised.