Amsterdam was nothing short of fantastic, beautiful, inspiring- pretty much all the positive words. It truly felt like all the people I met, or even just walked by, were happier than the rest of the world. It was simultaneously baffling and endearing and enchanting enough to make me want to move there for at least a few years. Despite Amsterdam's reputation for being a haven for drugs and prostitution, there was hardly anything distinctly noticeable or seedy. I even got lost for about an hour at night and even though I felt a tad unsafe, no one bothered me and I made it to the hostel unharmed. 

The cycling culture is unparalleled to any place I've visited both in the States and in Europe (although I'm going to Copenhagen in a few weeks and they're also supposed to have an extensive cycling network). The organization involved in their bike lanes and the ease with which people rode was intimidating and inspiring. I have also lost touch with the art of cycling and was definitely a noticeable tourist. A lot of the time people cycled with a person just sitting side saddle on the bike rack. Or there was the impressive parent/adult cycling with two children sitting in a front loading cargo basket and another child side saddle on the back bike rack. Now that is some serious cycling. 

I wish I could get a good picture of my favorite part of Spring in the UK- the swirling, floating, drifting petals, leaves, and cotton puff pollen. I thought just being here and enjoying the birds and scenery during the winter was a beautiful thing, but then spring came around. 

The first signs of spring came with the neighbor's tree sprouting soft small petals and the perpetual breeze blowing through Canterbury ensured a steady flutter of white and lightly pink petals. More trees sprouted green leaves and those were plucked and blown by the wind to spin and drift in the air. 

And, possibly most magical of all, are the puffs of cotton-like seeds (from a tree I can't identify) whirling in the wind along the Great Stour River. My first encounter with these magical puffs of reproduction was on a run and at first there were just a few floating along in front of me. And there were little piles of puff lining the pathway and as I ran, more and more of these puffs came eddying towards me. It's a good thing I like to look up often, because when I did look up it was a delight to see the air above me just buzzing with puffs.

I know it's a part of nature that happens all over the world, even in California, but this broad comes from urban/suburban roots and there isn't much swirling of anything in the wind. There's also the magic of witnessing seasons in a different country that I'm sure is fueling my joy. I've witnessed these puffs in both Amsterdam and Hannover, and it was just as captivating.

But enough with the rambling, I've got coffees to drink and pictures to take.

Your Broad Abroad,

Dacy