I find myself so much more tuned into nature here. In the south of Sweden, there are many trees, but most are deciduous. For months, the landscape shows only dark, barren branches awaiting spring.
When the first bulbs start to bloom, it's a big deal. The schools talk to the kids about the spring flowers, people smile and remark on the new blooms, and the newspaper reports on which flowers are coming next.
In February or March, the little white snödroppar (Snowdrops), said to cheat winter, are the first to bloom.
On the second day of spring, Henrik's preschool opened. His class is named "Snödroppen," which seems fitting as the school opened just as the flowers were appearing. Here he is, riding his bike to school with Mats on his first day:
He really likes school, and his teachers say that he's understanding Swedish well, but still speaks to them mostly in English. With the kids, however, I hear him starting, just like Lucas did, to speak Swedish. "Look here," "Stop it," and "Come here" seem to be some of the first phrases kids learn. This past week it seemed that some magical language piece clicked in, and now I hear him switching between the languages like Lucas does.
Along with the flowers and trees, I look forward to watching Henrik's Swedish bloom this spring.