April 27th - Kings day here in the Netherlands, but its cold, with lots of wind, rain, hail and an occasionally thunder.
A glimpse of the sun
Reminds me of a Robert Frost Poem A Passing Glimpse
I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.
I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.
I name all the flowers I am sure they weren't;
Not fireweed loving where woods have burnt--
Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth--
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.
Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth will ever find?
Heaven gives it glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.
