The three of us had the pool almost to ourselves. The pool and the toys floating in it.

Among them were pieces of those water spaghetti’s. Long colored strings of foam. As they are pieces they were short colored strings of foam in this case.

After having done several things with one of them  — shooting it out of the water, hitting myself over the head, putting it under my arms –  I finally used it as a foot rest. With my feet supported like that I was able to float effortlessly in the water.

My ears were just under the waterline; exterior sounds became muted and distorted, interior sounds amplified.

I heard my own breathing the way you never do.

Clouds drifted by lazily.

The air smelled of Summer.

Thank You for the simple joy of being somewhat submerged in water.

Clattering, sparkling, joyful, full of energy, full of life.

Be honest with you, sometimes those very voices work on my nerves the way sandpaper does on cardboard. It rips me up and destroys my patience or focus within seconds. Sometimes their joy is my noise.

But today I listened.

I heard the unbridled joy, so completely in the here and now, in the moment.

I heard how they gave everything. They talked the way we laugh when we’re tickled.

I also heard myself, a kid, not long ago. Running, digging, cycling, experiencing, being.

What a blessing to hear children’s voices, to hear the experience of Life bursting out, to hear simple joys tickle them so much.

Thank You for the children and what they show us.

What started out as oral tradition became written. And the magic is that it worked. The written word invoked the same emotions, the same imagery, the same touch, the same reality.

Copied by hand the written word maybe did not touch more people at first but it touched farther. And then, through print, it touched thousands, millions, billions.

And me.

I grew up with books. A religious family mine, books were everywhere. The Bible, a concordance, Bible studies, Billy Graham, Corrie ten Boom, so much more.

That was the first tasting of.

The real taste came in the form of one of the books from the Bob Evers series by the Willy van der Heide, given to me by a primary school teacher as a price for good hand writing.

It went unread. Until I got ill and needed 6 months of bed rest. With day time television limited to Wednesday and Saturday afternoon, I finally read. The complete Tintin comic book serie my brother-in-law owned that is. And after that the complete Asterix comic book serie. Only when those two were exhausted and I was left with nothing I turned to the Bob Evers book.

And then the second volume.. and the third.. and…

And it never stopped.

Some of my fondest memories are of my scouring through the public library, hunting for more books.

Some of my fondest memories are books.

I lived many more lives than I have time for thanks to books. I have experience unheard of — thanks to books. And I have unheard of experiences thanks to books.

Thank You for the written word and our wonderful ability to absorb it.

* the amazing photo work of the book cover was taken by Scot (PhotoNoob.net) who worked on the photo in PhotoShop.

As a teen I would see the hours tick away at night as the early morning and my summer job approached.

Family changed that first. With kids there is no sleeping late. Ever. It soon gets to the point where you get up at 8 and feel elated because you “slept out”.

These days I’m a morning person by choice. I get up early. 6AM, aiming to slowly dial it back to 5:30 even.

First thing I do is a shower. How can anyone stay asleep, feel groggy, when you’re standing under running water?

The feel is rejuvenating.  Life giving. Splendid. Rich.

Thank You for water; Thank You for morning showers that make me feel so good.

* The amazing photo of water droplets on human skin was taken by fatal Cleopatra.

How beautiful the sky can be. How amazing the colors. What an exquisite soft range of colors. What a brilliant idea to have light refract. What an amazing concept to have one and the same phenomenon, waves, act as sound, light, and so many other things.

Thank You for the colors of the sky. 

After a few minutes I had showered and a pot of fresh coffee awaited me.

The vice of a cigarette brought me outside on the porch in the morning sunshine. I was enjoying these three, the coffee, the cigarette, the sunshine, when I became aware of the singing of so many birds.

In Amsterdam, where I grew up, I was used to hearing birds year round but here, way up north, birds go away for the winter. I missed their morning sounds for a long time.

Every year it is a joy, a sensation, a blessing, to see and hear the birds backs.

Thank You for the birds and their sounds and songs.

* The beautiful photo of birds on a wire was taken by lumkness.

If the time before my wife was like a stretch of empty wasteland, desolate of fresh green growth, my current days can be likened to the most pleasurable days of Summer you can remember from your childhood. Care free. Joyous. Sparkling. Never ending.

She is simply incredible. The way she treats her heart and judges her actions always falling just that little bit short of being good enough, soft enough, humble me. I so lightly like to think of myself as good.

In her creativity she is versatile. Whether it is crafting, decorating our Home or envisioning how our garden should look in the Summer, she has the touch, that mind’s eye that never seizes to amaze me.

For our children she is a Mother. Where I’m considering harsh punishments she talks. Where I’m about to be swept under the carpet by their tears, she takes a stance and corrects them with just the right proportions of Love and Justice. She seems to know something I don’t: when to Love and when to be Tough.

She’s an Educator too, and a brilliant one. School children cram around her classroom door way before the lessons begin, just so they can have some time with her. Long after they recognize her on the street and with a big smile they wave her a hello.

Her heart is caring and soft. Her soul is sweet and always improving, bettering, purifying.

She laughs like no other and her sense of humor is exquisite: she even likes my jokes. When we laugh together the Child in me rejoices and I can take on the world. When she tells me that she’s proud of me, it counts and it makes me feel smarter than Einstein. Because of her I feel I can take on the world.

In the balance of daily life, where little things can become Big Nags, she puts more Special Stuff in the balance scales. Without her our children, our family, our friends would find themselves lacking someone important and special.

Her social skills are so good. She’s light and fun among people and I’m simply amazed, baffled. Impressed.

In so many ways she’s my example.

Thank You for my wife.

· The beautiful photo of a white rose on a beach was taken by takomabibelot

I think that it’s most of all the promise the intense light brings. “This is a new day!”, it beams, “This day is going to rock!!”

Our kitchen catches the morning the sun. In winter the sun is so low in the sky sometimes that you have to squint your eyes: excellent!

A cup of coffee, some breakfast, that morning sun streaming in, and the hustle and bussle of family life.

Thank You for the morning sun.

Apparently it’s not even the rain itself that smells. If everything is right water doesn’t have a smell.

Instead the smell is produced by the Streptomyces bacteria. When it’s been dry a while they produce spores and those spores are what is released into the air when the rain hits the ground. And this is what we associate with the smell of rain.

It’s amazing how also in the process of rain everything works together and is at the same time as simple as a child can see and as complicated as a wise one knows.

Thank You for the smell of rain.

· The wonderful photo of rain hitting cement was taken by sneezypb

When it comes to love and dedication for your children, my mother is my example.

Living on the other side of the ocean we none the less find time to chat almost on a daily basis: the Internet has made ours a small, cozy world.

It’s so natural for me to have my mother. And it’s not. I lost my father 9 years ago. Could happen anytime to me, to my mother. Around me I know those who have lost their mother and whether it was early on or late in their lives, it was always too soon.

So I guess I can count two blessings: that I have such a fine, sweet, special mother — and that I have her.