In which the snow falls softly upon palms.

Woke up to a wintery scene this morning and went a-walking along the harbor. All quiet except for the occasional cry of "Haaaafenrundfaaaahrt" and the surprised flutter of seagull wings, the soft crunch-crunch-creak of footsteps on wooden docks, and whatever sound exhaled breath makes when it appears as a fine puff of white and disperses amidst the swirling snowflakes. 

In which Saturday is such a day.

Flash-forward to the nearly present past:
One of my favoritely voiced friends visited this weekend and we ended up going on a grand Saturday adventure, soaking up this rarity that is winter sunshine on a long walk around the harbor, up into Altona, and once darkness settled, across the brightly lit Dom (which may have included a few minutes of freezing our faces off zooming around in the small swings of the Kettenkarussell high above the fair while shouting along and doing the necessary choreo to the YMCA and hooting mightily at the hilarity of it all), then on to a hidden Glühwein forest and late-nite sci-fi at the movies.

Sunday was sleepier, and involved a lot of time in the kitchen making a caramel apple upside down gingerbread cake that had been on my list for a while, as well as a trip to the theater and a delicious dinner that I didn't have to cook. There are many types of perfect weekend, and this was one of them. Thank you, friends.

This morning I awoke to a heavily frosted neighborhood, topped with the pre-dawn pinks to blues across the horizon. Now, it's a sweatpants and squash soup and fleecy cocoon kind of night. The air is wonderful.

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.

In which we opt for a Hamburg springtime photodump.

Spring arrived in Hamburg with great bouts of sunshine and bluster. Humid afternoons heavy with the scent of tree bloomings turn to tumultuous churnings in the heavens, the weather solidly predictable in its unpredictability. Even at the end of May, people still comment on what a long April it’s been, chuckle chuckle. Dragging out eight hours in front of two computer screens five days a week has left me feeling less and less inclined to look at my laptop in my free time, thus resulting in the most recent blog hiatus. Instead, my weekends have mostly been devoted baking and to hamburging, i.e. getting to know this city better than ever, picnic packed and eyes at the ready. This includes general city wanderings as well as regional exploring, and in this post I’ll stick closer to home.   

As weather is always a reliable conversation starter (see above), we’ll start the photo dump there. Once upon a time, there was a pretty nifty bit of starry playtime involving the moon blocking 80% of the sun up in these northern parts. Eclipse-viewing circumstances were not ideal at first, being far too sunny. The effect was bizarre, as there were still sun and shadows as per usual, but the world was darker in exactly the same way as when you’re looking at it through sunglasses. A bit terrified of going blind if I even squinted thataway, I pointed my camera in its general direction and said GO! That shot looked like pretty ordinary sun picture, except for a line across the celestial body indicating that something was amiss. Nine minutes later however, clouds had come to check on the situation and then hey! It’s the moon! I mean, the sun! A sky sickle! 

And following: the aforementioned humid afternoons and tumultuous churnings, mega storms a-brewing.

Still at the kitchen window: once upon at time the line at the post office below got so long that 22 people were waiting outside!

While inside, there was caramelized upside-down orange ricotta cake and weeks worth of granola bakings, such as tasty chocolate almond cranberry and scrumptious cardamom pistachio apricot pumpkin seed adjective adjective adjective. Yummings and crunching in the Baumhaus!

 Once outside the house, we could go for a little stroll in our favorite park…

…or simply stroll to the S-Bahn with Jules as she discovers flowers and we oohh and aaw and teehee over all the bunnies and fluffy little offspring we see along the way.

From the S-Bahn we could cross the Elbe and go for a springy jaunt around Wilhelmsburg and Veddel, checking out the algae-walled passive house and the algae-covered boat houses. 

Scooting back across the Elbe, we arrive at the harbor just in time for the sun to say goodnight.

When it comes back again, we could go explore previously unknown parts of the city and take a couple snapshots while we're at it.

Every Saturday we (or we could switch back to first person now) I go to this market with a friend for all our (my) tasty local produce!

And this? This is just all the time. Typisch Hamburg.