Easter’s usually a time associated with spring. But because it was incredibly late this year, and because of an unusually warm week, Easter in Holland last weekend was more like summer.
Now, the end of April is usually lovely in The Netherlands, but in a spring-y kind of way. Chilly mornings morphing into sunny afternoons when you can finally feel the warm sun on your bare arms if you can find a spot out of the wind. This Easter, the temperatures were above 25 degrees Celsius; the green sheet of pollen that descends every year hadn’t yet fallen, the leaves on the trees hadn’t even fully unfurled yet, and the trees themselves looked like baobabs, all trunk and tiny leaves giving off a kind of unsatisfying lattice shade.
So it seemed odd to have to go for a swim in a lake to cool off before the lilacs were even out, and while the scent of cherry blossoms still lingered in the air.
Or feeling the waves of held heat between the trees while biking along Friesian lanes at sunset, alternating with a sort of cold reality.
It was summer before the mosquitoes were really out, but also before anyone had it in their minds to build a campfire at night.
Lovely, but if this is a precursor for warmer springs ahead, it’ll take some getting used to. (On Easter Sunday, there was a worry that the chocolate eggs might melt before the kids found them.)
It’s hard to know what’s an outlier, and what’s the result of global warming and I guess that’s the problem with most things related to how we use the planet. We won’t know, or even begin to listen, til it’s too late.