No one told me flying south for the winter would take me somewhere colder than England.
Then again, there’s something so peaceful about walking alone down a frozen street – I’m pretty sure Elsa was just here working her ice-skills.
While I really miss Bali in these temperatures I’m also very grateful to be able to see the magic in somewhere new.
Icicles hang from bus stop signs and dustbins, like abandoned Christmas decorations in a ghost town.
I spoke to a man smoking a cigarette in a doorway. “Lovely weather!” I called, and he smiled, waved me on, like I was a crazy person for even being outside.
But the cold is just as heartwarming as the heat sometimes…
There’s magic in the shadows.
Promises, frozen in time.
Mystery under the skin of it.
Anything’s a possibility.
After winter, there is always spring.
And after spring…