When words create magic and make you want to write letters to the weather gods …
where are you?
wo bleibst du denn?
Tollboden, Fredrikstad, Norway February 2017. Not a trace of snow and no frost patterns on our window!
We bought those fur parkas in fancy explorer-style and now we are sweating. We didn’t go up North for that! The name Norway goes back to the old Norse word Norðrvegr meaning the way up North. Isn’t the North your kingdom any longer?
The Vikings knew real winters they described euphemistic as times staying at home. But we want to feel snow under our boots and admire northern lights. Dear Winter, could you, please, make that possible! Or is your friend Mother Hulda not well? Or are these signs of the beginning of her dementia that she lets it snow in Spain and Portugal and not here?
Wir haben uns extra Fellparkas im schicksten Amundsen-Stil besorgt und was ist? Wir schwitzen! Dafür…
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