I just walked across the Ringvaart, here in Amsterdam Oost! A brave neighbor, Henk, was out shoveling this morning -- and he confirmed that the ice was already 6 centimeters thick, beneath the blanket of snow from yesterday. He said that he checked things out himself, together with two other grown men creating a combined weight of over 200 kilograms, and the ice was totally safe.

So a spontaneous ice party burst out with kids on skates and sleds, mothers taking pictures, and dogs chasing balls through the snow. It's the way Amsterdam winters are meant to be!

So I'm trying to collect some resources for finding out if / when / where one might be able to find naturally-frozzen waterways within the Netherlands. We have friends coming to visit from Florida next -- and believe it or not, they're really excited about the idea of getting to experience a real Dutch winter. I had my doubts that they would be fortunate enough to get the real experience, with the mild winter that we've been having; however, with the cold snap that we're currently experiencing, it's looking somewhat feasible. So I'm trying to prepare myself with some resources for judging where the natural ice action might be discovered.

So far, I've found a few decent internet resources, listed here below:

• www.schaatstochten.info
• www.schaatsen.nl
• www.schaatsforum.nl

But I'm still looking for more resources -- particularly information about where to find naturally iced-over waterways that would be safe for skating. If you let me know about any other information that you might be awaare of, please let me know (a comment to the Facebook version of this content or an e-mail) -- and I will add it to the list (crediting you for your help, of course), for posterity sake.

Northern European winters help me to understand the faith of the Pagans and Druids and Celts: a theology integrally connected with the natural world around them... a call to worship marked by the rising and setting of the sun... solstices serving as high holy days because of their significance in the beginning of a new cycle that would bring them closer or further away from that most precious of all commodities in northern Europe: the sun. In all my seasons of living in Amsterdam, not a year has gone by when I have failed to notice the occurence of the winter solstice, the darkest day of the year. It's really remarkable to notice the effect of sunlight on our souls.

Today in Amsterdam, the sun rose at 8:48 this morning. It will set again at 4:29 in the afternoon. That's just 7 hours and 41 minutes of sunlight (if the overcast conditions can be called as such), and 16 hours and 19 minutes of darkness. It's a dark, dark world on days like this.

But the beautiful thing that we can remember at the time of the winter solstice is that the sunlight is coming back! And in fact, the light has already come! The Gospel of John records an occasion when Jesus exclaimed, "I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life." The Pagans and Druids and Celts didn't initially have the benefit of the Gospel, but we do. The Light has already come... and the Light is coming back again! It may have been a long, long time since the glory days of the summer solstice, when the Light was most obvious and evident... but bit by bit, the Light is making a comeback -- and someday, we will once again experience the summer sun in its full glory.

When I experience the winter solstice in northern Europe and I read the Gospel of John, the imagery is astonishing. It connects on an entirely different level. "In the beginning the Word already existed. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God. God created everything through him, and nothing was created except through him. The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. God sent a man, John the Baptist, to tell about the light so that everyone might believe because of his testimony. John himself was not the light; he was simply a witness to tell about the light. The one who is the true light, who gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He came into the very world he created, but the world didn’t recognize him. He came to his own people, and even they rejected him. But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. They are reborn -- not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God. So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son. John testified about him when he shouted to the crowds, 'This is the one I was talking about when I said, ‘Someone is coming after me who is far greater than I am, for he existed long before me.’' From his abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another. For the law was given through Moses, but God’s unfailing love and faithfulness came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. But the unique One, who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us."

According to Google, I am considered one of the world's foremost experts on precipitation terminology. Nevermind the fact that I don't have a background in meteorology or linguistics. I posted something here on my website a couple of years back, entitled "Eleven Words for Rain," and that apparently qualifies me as an expert. Seriously, for whatever reason, this has become one of the more well-worn paths from Google to my website -- precipitation terminology seekers... and appeltaart afficionados!

Anyway, despite my apparent expertise in the field, I really don't know what to make of the precipitation that's been falling from Amsterdam's skies over the last two days.

One might be inclined to call it hail... but then again, it's too small, not round enough, and too regular to really classify as hail in my mind.

One might be inclined to call it snow... but then again, it's too hard and too heavy for snow. I certainly don't feel like we're having our first snowfall of the year these days.

Another option would be to call it sleet or freezing rain... but it actually seems like an inverted version of sleet to me. The stuff that we're getting these days is solid in the air and immediately upon impact, but then it quickly melts into nothingness -- unlike sleet which comes down more liquid and then turns to ice once it's on the ground.

So what's the best word for the stuff we've been getting lately? Is there a Dutch word for it that I might not know about? Is there an English word, outside of the generic Weather-Channelish "wintry mix?" Whatever it is, I have to confess that it's not my favorite type of precipitation. But in any event, it makes it feel like we're legitimately in the holiday season. And as long as I can stay inside and sip hot buttered rum in the evenings, I think everything will turn out just fine.

I just saw this on 22 words and totally resonated with the sentiment.

I thought about trying to create a "Looks Like... Feels Like..." parallel for bicycling in the Amsterdam rain, since we're finally getting our November weather here in December. My version probably would have been a pretty tame view from my bike's handlebars in a steady, gray rain -- contrasted with a view from underneath the Niagra Falls... But honestly, I was too lazy to put it together, too comfortable here inside with my computer and my slippers. So I didn't do it. Don't you know what that weather feels like out there?!? :-)