Denmark in deep winter means some ice and snow. But not much. And some light. But not as little as in Finland. On the first of February the light was blue and on its way out by the time I arrived. On that day I thought this would be my last visit and I took two photos, to remember. I sat in silence for a long time, pondering over how unpredictable and out of control life is, and how all we can do is try to hang on from the edge and insist that we have some sort of assertiveness over where we go. Because if we don’t try to assert control we do not assert ownership of our actions. A pond is a good place for pondering.
One month later, as I write this, I am still in Brande. There is sunshine in the air. The fish no longer need to survive on oxygen stored in the water under the ice, and I have regained the illusion that I do have control of most of what I do and choose. And I am thinking of the wise Pema Chödrön’s words: “You are the sky. Everything else – it’s just the weather.”
(Brande, Denmark; February and March, 2019)
Snow in Turin. We are not even on high altitude and yet this place in Italy is as cold as up North in Denmark. 
(Turin, Italy; January 2019)
Good morning, Turin. And what a cold and bitter morning it is. Even the rooftop pigeons are nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, how come we only see pigeons when the temperature is relatively warm? Where do the thousands of pigeons living in any major European city go to on cold winter days? They must have places to warm up of which we know nothing. They must have secrets.
This blue marble 