Standing near the Washington Monument on April 1, my head tilted up, I was entranced by a sky that was alive with movement and color.  Hundreds of kites floated, danced, and dived in the blustery wind of a brisk spring day.  The Blossom Kite Festival, a signature event of the National Cherry Blossom Festival, was worth weaving through the crowds around the Mall.  Flying a kite is fun, but flying a kite among a giant flock of kites is like magic.  

Everyone seemed to be enjoying the day, determined to get and keep their kites aloft, or frame the perfect photo of the cherry blossoms, with the Jefferson Memorial or Washington Monument peeking in the background.  The Tidal Basin, painted pink and white with cherry blossoms, was just as packed as the Mall.  It was beautiful to see people all come together for the simple pleasure of flying kites and enjoying flowers in bloom.   On that windy Saturday, I rediscovered the joy of flying a kite (and the danger when they go rogue).  

Walking with the wind whipping my hair around my face, taking in the joy and laughter of families and friends flying kites of all shapes, sizes, and colors (with varying levels of success), I excitedly realized I had a word for the rejuvenating feeling of the wind and the walk and the beauty all around me.  Uitwaaien.

I learned about the Dutch word uitwaaien, from a great BBC article The 'untranslatable' emotions you never knew you had.  The article talks about the work of Dr. Tim Lomas, and his ongoing positive lexicography project, "an evolving index of 'untranslatable' words related to wellbeing from across the world's languages."  Uitwaaien, as defined in the BBC article, "encapsulates the revitalising effects of taking a walk in the wind."  

Thinking about uitwaaien and my own memories of walks in the wind,  I thought about my time on the Isle of Skye, Scotland, when the wind was so strong I thought I would lose my footing.  I had never felt wind so powerful, and it was invigorating.  I thought about the times I hiked up to the top of Arthur's Seat in Edinburgh, and watched people take photos at the summit with their hair flying wild.  I thought about the countless walks I have taken on the beaches of South Carolina, and the therapeutic effects of the salt-laced breeze.  

I love how a word from a language I do not know (and probably cannot pronounce) can bring me joy and conjure memories.  Memories with the common thread of an emotion I did not know had a name.  Now I have a word to explain why I look forward to the often windy walk to the farmer's market in DuPont Circle on Sundays, and the refreshing feeling it brings me. Beyond its untranslatable Dutch meaning, uitwaaien has become my reminder for all the beautiful words and experiences I have yet to discover, and I am excited to keep learning.