In which Easter is quiet we burn the hell out of winter.

The Easter holiday in Germany is a long one, with Good Friday and Easter Monday both being national holidays. This makes it an optimal time for traveling, going home for holiday binging, and long walks after said binging if the weather complies. I didn't get my act together in time to plan any trips this year and have thus stayed at home, dividing my time between sleeping through the rain and adventuring in times of less precipitation. Friday was rather miserable, fitting with its biblical reputation, but Saturday was extra gorgeous to make up for it. I found a friend to go hiking with me and we spent the glorious afternoon in the Sachsenwald to the east of Hamburg, where the trees were just getting ready to pop. Next weekend it should be bursting with lime green life.

That evening I found a few other companions and joined to masses on the banks of the Elbe to see the Osterfeuer -- the massive bonfires topped with creepy effigies symbolizing the burning away of winter. Massive container ships and brightly-lit tourist vessels patroled the waters along the beach in work and in play as the embers rose high into the sky. The lighting of the main fire was delayed a couple hours due to strong winds and was then carefully controlled and promptly put out by the fire department, but the mighty minutes in which that mountain of Christmas trees came ablaze made the waiting worthwhile. Rather a different way of celebrating the Vigil than in a dark church aglow with candlelight, the mysterious and ancient beauty of the Exsultet shimmering in the window panes, hovering in the hushed air, winding up to the rafters in the smoke of the newly-lit Paschal flame. Bonfires accompanied by Bier, Bratwurst, and Brezeln may not be as poetic, but it gets major points for alliteration.  

After arriving home late and drenched in smoke, I slept away most of Sunday morning (thanks, daylight savings time), the sky gray again and leaking most efficiently. After some spontaneous Kaffee & Kuchen with a friend, the sun had wandered back to town and I went for a walk around the harbor, dressed in its Sunday best.

I've always loved living in Hamburg, but every now and then it hits me all over again and I find myself agush with feelings of delight -- the walk this evening having just that effect. What luck, indeed, and thanks, universe.