I started investigating life in Belgian about a year ago. We watched Rick Steves, I followed new hashtags on Instagram, we started studying French. I began to get excited about what we could expect: SPRING!
Belgian bluebells in forests near Hallerbos! Winding pathways through gorgeous tulips! Castles and chateaus and gardens!
We knew moving here in winter would be meh, but we had SPRING to look forward to! JUST KIDDING said Quarantine. No friends for your kids! No school! No markets! No getting established! No day trips! No exploring! No France Fridays! No spring!
YES, SPRING! You can’t deny spring, Quarantine. As the sun rises day after day, spring must follow winter. So we enjoyed spring the only way we could, and the best way to enjoy it in the best of times anyway: on bike and on foot. We biked to nearby parks. We drove to parks and let the kids bike around. And we logged hours and hours walking around the surrounding neighborhoods. We have discovered a lot, and we have definitely enjoyed watching spring overtake winter. Take that, Quarantine!
But I REALLY wanted to see those bluebells. “I don’t need to see ALL THE BLUEBELLS,” I told Chris. “I just wish we could find one little patch of flowers or something.”
ducklings! 
too late, we saw the “don’t feed the ducks” signage… 
she has a great personality
Having explored Woluwe Park and Cinquantenaire Park, we noticed Tervuren Park was also nearby. I had no idea how huge it was—it is massive. The path around the pond is a solid four miles! Eloise was throwing a tantrum about not wanting to ride her bike so we left the offending device in the car. Chris and Isaac zoomed off, jogging and biking, and Eloise and I began our long stroll. The avenues lined with trees are cathedral-like in the straight loftiness of their high arches overhead. The palatial Africa Museum crowns organized gardens. We fed some baby geese before we saw the sign that said not to (oops).
Here is something I find very impressive about Belgium: the trees. There are so many very very very tall trees, and they’re often in straight, tidy lines! In parts of the park, you can stand on a little high spot and spin in a circle to see straight avenues of towering trees radiating out like spokes in all directions. But if you walk even a short way down any avenue, the trees outside the lane you’re on look pleasantly haphazard in a natural way. I found this extremely pleasing.
Anyway, so I’m generally gawking and admiring the sunny weather and the leaves, and the lines of trees, and carrying Eloise like a backpack by this point, and the waterfowl splashing happily and other park-enjoyers, when I think, “These forests somewhat resemble the photos of bluebells…I wonder if there are any here?” I’m pleased to report that there WERE.
Sunlight filtered down through a thousand shades of glowing, wild-alive green to summon hazy patches of nodding bluebells. The forest was filled with soft, expanding, fresh-smelling silence—just the soughing of new leaves in a spring breeze. Once in a while we heard others walking on a nearby path, or horses clip-clopping by. Eloise was similarly enchanted.
“You seem happy,” said Chris when we all met up again. Indeed. A beautiful foreshadowing of spring day trips to come next year (hopefully).
Summer Lavender
Royal Summer Nights in Brussels
Dutch Tulips
Leuven Love