No matter how many times Netherlands stopped by Estonia’s home, it was always a shock to see him covered in dirt.

Their friendship was very new. His impression of Estonia was slick, neat, and modern. When their paths would cross, he was always well-dressed in expensive suits and noticeably owned the latest devices available on the market. Estonia seemed to be stunned when Netherlands shared his observations about him over coffee. It was their first time sharing a table together during a brief morning recess at an EU meeting in Paris. Estonia admitted he had a bad habit of changing his devices regularly and was struggling to break it. He was conscious of how others perceived him, therefore being known as an IT nation was important to him. He had convinced himself that being seen with a device that was more than a few years old would tarnish his reputation. His clothing, however, he insisted was fairly cheap. He was no different than anyone else; he shopped at one of the local malls nearby his home and bought what was within his price point. Netherlands found his words hard to believe but when he wanted to press him for more questions, they were called back to continue with the day’s agenda.

That was some time ago. Five? Maybe ten years ago? He doesn’t quite remember. Time was always a strange concept for their kind anyhow.

Over their short time together though, Netherlands had begun to learn more things about him. He had an interesting palette for alcohol, was a natural when it came to music and technology, and liked the outdoors. But most importantly he was business-orientated. He knew how to sell you on anything — whether it was a wacky dish at his favourite restaurant that you just had to try or you needed help selling your hand-made crafts at the local marketplace—making a quick buck seemed to come naturally for him. Netherlands liked that in a man.

But when he found out that Estonia liked to garden, he was skeptical. They had been sharing drinks in a Brussels jazz bar after a long meeting and thought Estonia was just trying to make conversation. He didn’t look the type to get his hands dirty (then again neither did he), especially to those outside of his main friend group. Even when Estonia shared his knowledge of botany, he chalked it up to just being the intelligent guy that Estonia was known for.

“You should come to my place in the spring! I think you’ll like the setup that I’ve got.”

Netherlands took him up on that offer. To his surprise, he definitely liked what he saw.

His yard wasn’t very large but it boasted enough room to hold a patio set that was perfect for entertaining a small group of guests. A wooden shed that was painted dark brown was tucked away in the far left corner of the yard. A small rectangular glass table had been placed next to the shed where several mason jars containing herbs were growing happily in the sunlight. Each jar had its own white sticker label with all of the names written in Estonian. Everything was connected by a winding path of large stepping stones. Flower beds were decorated all around the perimeter of a classic white picket fence. A small plot of the yard was wired off for growing vegetables like lettuce and cucumbers. Various other pots were scattered around and contained different kinds of berries, tomatoes, and peppers. It was a cozy sight that made him feel right at home.

He had been back only a small handful of times since then. Their schedules just never seemed to align. Dates that did would always end up getting cancelled last minute. But a phone call on an unusually warm September night during a listening session of Rita Hovink’s first album would connect them once more. Estonia was very adamant about seeing him no later than next Saturday. When Netherlands circled the date in a red marker on the calendar hanging up on the wall of his tiny kitchen, Estonia made sure to include one last request before their call ended:

If you can, can you bring me some tulip bulbs? About three dozen or so? I’d be willing to reimburse you for it.

That seemed easy enough.

Netherlands gave Estonia a slight nudge against his right shoulder with the two brown paper bags he was carrying. With his knees deep in topsoil and dressed in messy blue overalls that were covered in grass stains, Estonia looked up with a big grin and a sunburnt nose.

It really did feel like Estonia was a whole different person.

What other sides of you are you hiding?

“Perfect timing as always!” he said cheerfully as he grabbed both bags. They crinkled loudly when he pulled them open and proceeded to tip each bag over to dump the contents onto the grass. He began counting each bulb carefully by putting them together in groups of ten. When Estonia got closer to the number thirty, he became more vocal in counting each number in his native tongue. Finally, at thirty, Estonia made a delighted grin and immediately began planting each bulb. He had two small plots with holes for each one all set to go. Netherlands crouched down at Estonia’s level and carefully watched him work. He noted how quick but delicate Estonia was with his hands.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early to be planting these? I usually wait until October.”

“It gets pretty cold here at this time of the year compared to most of Europe. I’ve already lost some of my berries to frost so I spent the last few days salvaging what I could.”

Ah, so that’s where those came from. When he had passed through the kitchen to get to the yard, he remembered seeing several glass containers and mini woven baskets spread out across the kitchen counter that were overflowing with various kinds of fruit like blueberries and strawberries.

“Fair enough.”

Despite the cool breeze, Netherlands was too warm with the sun’s rays beaming down on him and was forced to walk over to the patio set to remove his coat. He hung his brown trench coat over one of the chairs, which were noticeably one of the few items left in the yard that hadn’t been covered with a black tarp. On the table, he noticed extra gardening tools, gloves, and multiple clear bags of different types of flower bulbs and seeds. Just like the mason jars from before, the bags had white sticker labels on them, all handwritten in Estonian with a black marker. Netherlands didn’t bother asking and immediately put on the spare gloves, which were a size too small for the Dutch man’s large hands, and took the items to an empty plot next to Estonia.

Estonia jolted at the sound of the tools being picked up off the glass patio table and his eyes grew wide. Having guests work in his home was a big faux pas to him that he had to put a stop to.

“Wait! You’re a guest in my home. You don’t need to—”

Netherlands was quick to cut him off and delivered Estonia a stern look, “Quiet. I want to help.”

Estonia’s lips had parted as if he wanted to protest but the words just wouldn’t come. With an audible sigh, he immediately dropped the conversation and returned to planting the bulbs. Estonia was not the type to waste time arguing with others and Netherlands had picked up on that quickly when they first met. The men continued on in complete silence, with Netherlands only speaking up when he wanted to know what the labels on the bags translated to in English.

But the extra pair of hands proved to be more helpful than Estonia would have liked to admit. What he could have accomplished in a few hours had been cut in half.

Estonia ripped the gloves from his hands and tossed them to the ground. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He could already feel the aches settling into his back and knees.

“I appreciate the help. But you know you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine.” Netherlands stressed, “I wanted to help so don’t worry about it. Gardening is a hobby that helps me relax.”

“How can I repay you?”

“Some of those berries in the kitchen would be a good start.”

Estonia caught Netherlands’s soft grin and he couldn’t help but snort.

“That can definitely be arranged.”

In the early morning hours, Netherlands decided to go for a bike ride.

He had been staying in the town of Lisse, one of his favourite vacation spots. He had made it a tradition to visit once a year as a reward for surviving the cold winters in the city; although these days it seemed like winter was non-existent. It’s been some time since he had last seen a genuine snowfall on the streets of Amsterdam.

The town was famous among locals and tourists alike for the endless sea of tulips that filled the land. The scenery continued into the outskirts of town where more tulips lined the fields and the stereotypical Dutch-style windmills towered the skies. Each row sported a colour of its own: red, orange, yellow, and white respectively. Netherlands made a quick pit stop at the side of the road to take in the sights. With the morning sun fully risen, it was moments like these that served as a reminder of why spring was his favourite season of them all.

Recalling the conversations he shared with his siblings weeks prior, Netherlands decided to capture the sights. However, he had to be quick. The mornings were still cool and he knew his hands would freeze quickly if he stood by the fields for too long. He could see his warm breath in the air when he tossed his black leather gloves into the metal basket on the front of his bike. He reached into the right-side pocket of his orange puffer jacket and quickly began snapping photos. After taking the fourth shot, a notification popped up on the screen with a bell-sounding tune following after. It was a message from Estonia, who he hadn’t seen in person since their gardening escapades last autumn. There was no text attached, just a photo of light pink peonies. Before Netherlands could reply, another photo popped up, this time of yellow daffodils.

The photos kept coming; one of red roses that hadn’t fully bloomed, one with a mixture of red, purple, and yellow pansies, and one of light and dark blue cornflowers. The final image though made his heart soar. It was a shot of the tulips they had planted together. When he had brought the bulbs over, he had no idea what colours they would bloom into. They were extras he had picked up from a bin labelled ‘Assorted Tulips’ from a downtown shop. They hadn’t fully bloomed yet, but he could see the beautiful colours of red, orange, and yellow all mixed together.

Finally, a text had come through.

They’re coming along nicely. Thanks for your help.

Netherlands wasn’t sure if it was intentional but Estonia slipped in a red heart-shaped emoji at the end of that sentence. He found it both cheesy and somewhat charming. He’s once again learned something new about him.

So when are you inviting me over to see the rest?

A minute had passed and a reply came through.

How does next weekend sound?

He cracked a smile and typed a quick response.

It’s a date. I’ll bring us some gin.