Zero degrees C in the peak of midwinter we wrapped up warm in wool and polyester pulled on our boots thick with suede upper and gripping rubber soles primed and ready to walk the forest its floor frosted white glamourising the natural litter of fallen acorns and amber needles we held each others hand through our scandi grey gloves a) for support since I was clumsy and b) for love we looked out over the blank frozen fields and into the feeble glare of a weakened winter sun some chimneys breathed in the distance a sign of life going on while time stood still as we tightened our hands our minds raced to what the future would hold luckily for me I still get to hold you.
Thanks for reading. Thanks to freestocks on unsplash for use of the image.
finding comfort in a chunky knit sweater and sherpa-lined socks hands clasped around my favourite mug the steamy scent of hot ginger wine waltzing in the air with the aroma of an oud wood candle while the crackle of beechwood burning on the tv soothes selflessly the hardest choice I have is deciding what book to get lost in.
I felt at home in Copenhagen at winter’s twilight under the glow of warm vintage lanterns our breathing visible through knitted woollen scarves the air was kissed with scents of cinnamon, clove and citrus the nearby sounds of mirth and merriment interspersed with delighted roars and screams from the roller-coasters above warmth came from holding your hand and the chewy crunch of sweet-spiced almonds while opulent flakes of diamond snow fell graciously each one uniquely dazzling lining our pathway already a vivid spectrum of technicolour we sat on plastic and pine stools dropping kroner into the palm of a great Dane and laughed with love as we tried to make wooden horses gallop to the end of a straight line taking our time appreciating life as it’s meant to be. Together. That’s why I felt at home in Copenhagen.