What we accept as brilliance

Snowflake, little snowflake… falling from the sky, growing, thawing, vanishing…. It has been the ‘weather image’ of the last few weeks. We had some Winter storms now and again, rushing in to turn the world white for only a few hours. The true exception was December 2014, the day after Christmas - the snow lasted for about five days. Last week snow fell throughout the night, to veil the morning in a shade of white diamonds.

Snow and ice in December 2014 - De oude Ley Goirle

On that crystalline morning, my daughter Lisa - one and a half years old - discovered a Children’s drawing in one of her books. The mouse in the illustration was dressed in a warm jacket and scarf. In the snow it found a little bird shivering and crying from the cold. The mouse decided to take the little bird with it to enjoy the warmth of its home. 

Lisa pointed at the drawing, realizing that the snowflakes in the book were similar to the little white cushions falling outside on the porch. So then she pointed, with a totally amazed yell, at the snowflakes that she saw through the windowpane. Snow. Her first real encounter… though from a distance.

A tiny sculpture of ice near De oude Ley Goirle

Yesterday Lisa and I walked across the field in front of our house. Little clumps of snow and ice settled on her tiny shoes. She was constantly bending her neck while walking, keeping close to me and staring at her shoes. She was yelping with high shrieks, wondering what to do about it. Her cheeks and nose went red, blushing from the cold, while her smile couldn’t get any bigger!

Then I remembered… I remember my walk to the lighthouse of Tranøy on the Lofoten, Norway, in the dark void of the Winter of 2008. There was a constant vibe of dawn, of twilight, lasting for about 4 hours. And in the golden red glow I walked through the snow, going knee deep with every step ahead. It seemed to take decades to get to the Lighthouse, but I remember the thrilling joy through my whole body by the experience. 

And my daughter Lisa seemed to feel it too, years later, when she experienced the first touch of snow in the gloomy early morning of a Winter day in January 2015. Snow. It has magic in it. Even when it starts to vanish.

The wind has blown the snowflakes in a vertical direction,
giving the trees a surreal character

Last week I drove to my work and the stormy snow clouds were dissolving… a beam of fresh sunlight tore the sky open and the country that I crossed became radiant. The brown trees almost seemed red and the sky colored a distinguishing purple. And yes, I was quite late for work and I had to drive another - read: longer - route to avoid the traffic jams on the Highway, though I could not care less. THAT moment of radiance - missing it would have been a pure loss…

And my daughter made me remember. Snowflake, little snowflake… falling from the sky, growing, thawing, vanishing…. The wonder is in ourselves, what makes us come alive, what we accept as brilliance when we open our eyes.

The last rays of sunlight in a frozen world
 - De oude Ley Goirle